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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/28231299">The Ocean Will Be Our Abditory</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/remsha_miar/pseuds/remsha_miar'>remsha_miar</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Naruto</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Deidara is Trans, Drug Use, Gang Violence, Healing, Hidan is still immortal for reasons, M/M, Mental Health Issues, Murder, Non-Linear Narrative, Organized Crime, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Smoking, Suicidal Thoughts</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-12-22</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-03-06</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-10 16:22:05</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Explicit</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Graphic Depictions Of Violence</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>3</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>25,054</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/28231299</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/remsha_miar/pseuds/remsha_miar</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>The territorial war between the Akatsuki and the Hebi gang has the city of Amegakure at the brink of falling into complete chaos. There's violence in the streets, barely contained by the police. It's about influence, drugs and power. There is no high living in this city. Hidan is fine with it. He has nothing to live for but Deidara and the occasional high. Once they have made enough money so Deidara can finally fulfill his own dreams, Hidan wants to leave this life. A life lived and over. End of his story.<br/>Kakuzu spent the last ten years in prison, arrested because his past partners betrayed him, and he's back in Amegakure with a vengeance. Using his new-found freedom to immediately sniff his previous partners out and execute his revenge, he gets involved in the gang war between the two reigning gangs of the city. That's when he meets a certain foulmouthed delinquent and for the both of them nothing happens as planned.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Deidara/Hidan (Naruto), Hidan/Kakuzu (Naruto), Minor or Background Relationship(s)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>8</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>25</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Noctuary (Present I)</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>I'm back with another multi-chapter KakuHida fic, whoop!<br/>For this one I ask you to read the tags carefully as I have a somewhat more gruesome idea of how this story is going down. Rated E for heavy themes more than anything else, though depending on how it turns out I might still crank it down to M. We'll see about that.</p><p>Anyways, I hope you enjoy the read!</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Hidan startles awake at the sound of something harshly brushing over the tent. It‘s the first thing he notices. Everything else comes shortly after. It‘s still dark and cold, snow piling up around the tent. He would have to dig them out in the morning. His eyes only slowly get used to the dark and make out the faintest outlines of twigs and shrubbery outside the tent‘s walls.</p><p>The world is cold. Everything is.</p><p>The hard floor he‘s sleeping on. The jacket he uses as a blanket. His breath is visible. The air is freezing and he can taste the crispness of it. Outside the wind howls through the forest. He doesn‘t know how far away from the train tracks they‘ve gotten by now.</p><p>Kakuzu next to him is the only other warm thing other than him. Hidan makes out his silhouette in the dark, wrapped up in both their sleeping bags, one zipped up to his chin and the other draped over him. Through his haze of exhaustion Hidan tries to figure out if he‘s still alive or has already frozen to death.</p><p>He shifts ever closer until he can touch Kakuzu‘s face while also keeping his arms as closely to himself and under the jacket as he can. He feels cold sweat and burning hot skin underneath. The fever hasn‘t broken yet, then, but he‘s alive. He tugs some of Kakuzu‘s hair back, his thumb stroking over Kakuzu‘s cheek and over the scar he has there, marking him from the corner of his mouth to his ear. It‘s something familiar to feel. Kakuzu is riddled with scars all over after all. Hidan tried to count them once but there are smaller ones he misses and then he has to recount again. He likes them. They give Kakuzu an intriguing dangerous air that he finds himself attracted to. But right now he doesn‘t want him to be in any danger. And yet he‘s unable to do anything about their current situation.</p><p>Kakuzu stirs once Hidan‘s hands are gone from his face and hair. His breathing is slow and laboured like it takes him conscious effort. Hidan wonders how he managed to fall asleep in the first place.</p><p>"Kakuzu..." He shifts until he's pressed up against the pile that is their sleeping bags. He never learnt how to be careful but he tries his best for Kakuzu's sake, moving slowly and reaching an arm to wrap around him where it won't hurt.</p><p>Kakuzu opens his eyes and his eyes, bloodshot, the green in them glazed over, take a while to finally focus on Hidan.</p><p>"We need to find a village soon," Hidan says quietly, just loud enough for Kakuzu to hear him over the wind, "Need to... need to get you some treatment."</p><p>Somewhere underneath the sleeping bags Kakuzu's middle is wrapped in makeshift bandages, probably soaked in blood again.</p><p>"Hidan, I'm fine." It comes out raspy, sleep-heavy and most of all powerlessly. It makes Hidan want to laugh in his face for telling him such stupid things when reality looks so vastly different.</p><p>"You've got a fucking bullet in you. Nothing's fine!"</p><p>Kakuzu moves to roll onto his back. He clenches his jaw to muffle all the pained grunts that want to escape from him. At least his pride is still somewhat intact. It's the only thing between the two of them that is still intact. Things had started to shatter a long time ago and that's how they ended up in the wildness of a forest, in the middle of winter.</p><p>"This is the furthest thing from fine!"</p><p>"Shut up, Hidan." Even the way Kakuzu says that is pressed through his teeth with difficulty. It serves just as another reminder that Kakuzu isn't as unbreakable as Hidan thought him to be. "We said to look ahead."</p><p>Hidan takes a deep breath and nods hastily. They said that. Whatever happened, they would look ahead. It is only the two of them now. He needs to keep calm and carry everything Kakuzu can't. He needs to trust him.</p><p>"Still, you need a doctor or something."</p><p>"Hidan."</p><p>"Yeah?"</p><p>"I'm not dying."</p><p>Hidan wraps himself around him like an additional blanket, careful to not put any weight on the gunshot wound on Kakuzu's side between his hip and lower ribs. Shifting closer until Kakuzu's head rests against his chest and he can run his fingers through his hair. Having him close, feeling him breath and knowing that he's still warm helps against the ever growing anxiety. "Right," he says quietly, "You're not dying."</p><p>"We'll make it."</p><p>"We'll make it," Hidan repeats. A few times more in his head to make himself believe it. <em>We'll make it. We'll make it. We'll make it.</em></p><p>In a matter of minutes in which neither of them move and only the howling of the wind fills the silence Kakuzu has fallen asleep again. Hidan keeps stroking his hair for a little longer and tries to will himself to sleep too. Breathing exercises, counting sheep to drown out his surroundings and find rest.</p><p>It doesn't work.</p><p>Karma is getting back at him for everything like he hadn't gotten fucked by it enough already. Nothing is fine and it's hard to believe that anything would get better in the future. Hidan has survived everything that had been thrown in his way so far, even the things he sabotaged himself. There's many reasons why he can sleep without any blankets at these freezing temperatures. There's many reasons why Kakuzu can't. Everything he went through he had only survived because he was ambitious, clever and brutal when he needed to be. Unlike Hidan.</p><p>The bullet should have hit him.</p><p>It keeps him awake and he thinks about it when the smallest rays of the morning sun break through the tree crowns and through the thin layers of the tent. He lets Kakuzu sleep for just a little while longer, until the sun has fully risen, and still gets up first to shove away the snow around them. There's a small dent in the white plane where they had their camp fire the previous evening. The fireplace is snowed over. All the wood he finds to make a new one is wet and gives off clouds of wet smoke when he gets a fire started eventually. Kakuzu wouldn't have taken this long to do it. He taught Hidan how to light a fire in the wilderness in the first place.</p><p>Back in the tent he grabs a can of beans from their backpacks. Kakuzu wakes up from the rustle. He looks paler than the day before, sickly, the sheen of sweat still on his face and making his hair stick to his forehead and neck.</p><p>"I'm making breakfast," Hidan explains. Kakuzu tries to sit up. "Hey, don't move! Wait until I help you!" Within a second Hidan drops the can and scoots over to Kakuzu to gently press him down again. "Stay there. Don't even think about moving until you've eaten something!"</p><p>Kakuzu scowls at him but doesn't protest any longer. Back in the city their roles would have been reversed. Hidan would insist that he was fine and Kakuzu would call him out on it. Everything since then has changed, though, and Hidan can't get used to it. It shouldn't be like this; every fiber of his being refuses to acknowledge that this was their reality now.</p><p>The bullet should have hit him.</p><p>Yet the world wants to take Kakuzu away from him so badly, wanted to break them apart and erase the both of them. He hates it.</p><p>He heats up the beans and returns to the tent where Kakuzu just looks up at the ceiling because there is not much else that he could do. He is lying still, much more rational, less reckless than Hidan would be in his stead, and just breathes. Hidan helps him sit up in the way that makes the wound hurt the least and watches him eat.</p><p>He doesn't need to eat anymore and for their journey Kakuzu needs all his strength so he gets all the food they have with them, but Hidan can't help but miss it a little.</p><p>There's many things he misses and keeps himself from missing by locking it up somewhere deep inside of him and letting it be enveloped by his hate for the world that tries to take Kakuzu from him. It's the only way he can resist the tugging on his heart that desperately wants everything back the way it was before.</p><p>It has become a mantra.</p><p>He doesn't miss the city.</p><p>He doesn't miss having his hands red with blood.</p><p>He doesn't miss the highs and trips he's reveled in before.</p><p>He doesn't miss Deidara.</p><p>Kakuzu is right here with him. He's not dying. <em>We'll make it.</em></p><p>The day is merciful with them today. Over the morning the snow stopped and they walk with the sun above them. While it does little to keep them warm, it makes the world a little lighter. Hidan stays behind Kakuzu, adjusting to the other's speed. They aren't fast by any means. Kakuzu needs the help of a walking stick to even stay on his feet without swaying. Walking is visibly painful for him and still he continues on with no complaints, insisting that they take only few breaks whenever he deems them absolutely necessary.</p><p>Hidan expects him to collapse at any moment but Kakuzu never does.</p><p>The days are short in winter and the night falls sooner than they would like. Another night in these woods that seem to be endless. Hidan doesn't know where they are, he just trusts Kakuzu to lead them where they need to go.</p><p>Another can of beans. Another night in the tiny tent they share. Another sleepless night for Hidan during which he just watches Kakuzu.</p><p>
  <em>He's not dying</em>, he reminds himself.
</p><p>Exhaustion has him thinking of the city against his better judgement. A long time ago – even though it hasn't been all that long at all – Kakuzu had been unbreakable, something for Hidan to admire while he himself lived a miserable little life.</p><p>The next unwanted thought churns his stomach and the painful twist almost knocks him out. Almost, just leaves him aware enough so that he still knows what he is thinking. He misses the drugs. At least they would have helped him sleep. They would have lulled him in, taken away everything that hurt and made him numb to all the chaos in his mind.</p><p>Now his mouth only tastes of himself, dry and bitter.</p><p><em>Just let me sleep</em>, he asks silently. He asks anyone who's willing to listen and willing to hate the world with him.</p><p>Kakuzu's chest rises and falls with every breath he takes. Hidan focuses on that.</p><p>
  <em>Just let me sleep.</em>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Kalopsia (Past I)</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>I meant to update this fic an eternity ago, so sorry for the delay.<br/>However, I hope you enjoy!</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>His body rejected the drugs violently. It knew they were dangerous, they would kill him. They were supposed to. They were supposed to end everything, and yet they never did.</p><p>One of these days, he hoped, someone would notice he was missing and they would come to his apartment only to find him dead. Maybe one day his body wouldn't refuse to die any longer and he could finally go.</p><p>The ceiling came into view first, his vision blurry enough that he didn't notice the water stains from the apartment above immediately. He knew they were there anyway. For four years he had looked at this ceiling almost every day when he woke up. The urge to vomit eventually had him roll off his bed and throw it all up on the floor with hacking coughs. He spat out sour bile and what little was left of the pills he downed. His entire body shook with it, his arms trembling while he tried to keep himself from falling into his own vomit. When there was nothing more to cough up, he gasped in big gulps of air. His lungs hurt, strained against his ribs. His heart was racing, finally beating again.</p><p>The world around him came back slowly. There wasn't even much to it. Just his bedroom. The unmade bed, the nightstand with one leg shorter than the other three.</p><p>The shaking didn't stop. Cold sweat in every pore of his being and the beating of his own heart deafening. He felt it ache in his throat.</p><p>Painful reminders that he was still alive.</p><p>His body fought against the drugs for a while longer and he found himself unable to move from the spot on the floor, just staring down at his own vomit and trying to steady his breath. Every time he hated the process more. His blood cleaning itself and neutralising everything unwanted, his lungs making sure to get rid of everything harmful and having him breath it all out. His god damn, perfectly healthy body that just refused to die, no matter what.</p><p>Eventually he didn't know how much time had passed until he felt fit enough to stand up. Part of him was grateful for remembering to close the blinds and keep the light out. Another one just wanted to be blinded and warmed by the sun. Was it even day?</p><p>The apartment he rented was small. With only a few steps one could reach the bathroom and the kitchen. He didn't own a lot of furniture, not even a couch since he found it redundant when he already had a bed and never had any people over. The place didn't allow for many people anyway and it wasn't desirable to stay at either. The ceiling had wet spots from the apartment above his, the wallpaper slowly peeled off because of it too. Most surfaces collected dust and the carpet in the main room collected stains from previous endeavours like the one he had to clean up now.</p><p>Something he was used to do. The motions of it were automatic, practised. By the time he realised that he was even moving at all, the task was done.</p><p>Coming back from dying entailed three steps. Being sick, being numb, and lastly, becoming fully aware of everything happening in your body and being unable to do anything against it. The sudden awareness of his blood flowing through him had him stuck in one place again and made his vision spotty like TV static. He felt it running through his finger tips, his toes, every vein and oh so small capillary. The simple act of breathing made his lungs burn.</p><p>He glanced at his phone. Even at the lowest setting the brightness of it stung his eyes. Two missed calls and a number of text messages from Deidara sent in the span of the last three hours.</p><p>
  <em>we have another job come pick me up.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>hey u there?</em>
</p><p>
  <em>hidan ffs.</em>
</p><p>Missed call.</p><p>
  <em>this is urgent</em>
</p><p>
  <em>hello?</em>
</p><p>Missed call.</p><p>
  <em>dont make me do this alone asshole.</em>
</p><p>Hidan's finger floated over the call button for a bit, his hand still shaking, and he needed to take a few deep breaths first.</p><p>Deidara picked up after the third ring. "Fucking finally, man, where were you?" He sounded a little out of breath. In the background Hidan heard cars passing by and rain pattering down.</p><p>"Calm the fuck down, Dei. What is it?" At least his voice wasn't shaking too, instead he just slurred his words.</p><p>"Did you really just wake up? It's almost three, you know? We have a job!" Deidara vented on the other end. "I'm already on my way to you since you didn't care to answer my calls. Just wait for me. You're home, right?"</p><p>"I'm home, yeah."</p><p>"Good. You better be ready in ten. I'll fill you in in the car. See you." Without another word Deidara hung up and the dial tone pierced Hidan's ear harder than it had any right to do. He blamed it on the leftover haze.</p><p>Ten minutes.</p><p>More than enough to take a quick shower and wash the sweat off and get dressed in cleaner clothes. The water ran cold after only a minute as it did for every apartment in the building. Nobody bothered with trying to get it fixed anymore and one of the kids on the lower floors actively sabotaged any repairs to protect a nest of insects in the basement he had grown fond of.</p><p>Opening the blinds only let in little light. The sun only came out on a few days in the year. Amegakure was home to rain clouds and an eternally grey, bleak sky. During summer thunderstorms roared over the skyscrapers and caused the river splitting the city to flood over. During the winter months the rain faded into a never-ending drizzle. That same drizzle pattered softly against his window. Down on the street it disappeared in the sewers and puddles were splashed by cars driving through them. He spotted a head of blond hair round the corner and closed the blinds again.</p><p>Grabbing his keys and a raincoat he left his flat. The building had seven floors and all of them looked identical, save for the different arrangements of garbage bags in front of the doors. In some windows the glass was cracked. The walls were colourless and had cracks where there were layers at all. It was ugly but cheap and bearable enough.</p><p>Downstairs Deidara waited for him, protected from the rain under the front entrance's porch roof, leaning against the mailboxes. He had his hair tied together in the back as usual but from his walk it was dripping wet. Together with the rain running down his jacket it made a pool at his feet.</p><p>"You look like a fucking dog," Hidan greeted him.</p><p>Deidara's face went from annoyed to downright pouting. "I fucking walked the whole way, asshole." He patted his chest and immediately after wiped his hand on his trousers when it came away wet. "I'm wearing this damn thing. You know I shouldn't run with it on."</p><p>"Then don't put it on, idiot."</p><p>"I didn't plan on running. This is because of you. If I pass out it's your fault!" He looks Hidan up and down some more, face slowly contorting into something like shock. "You look like shit. You been getting high without me? That why you didn't answer my calls, hm?"</p><p>Hidan chose not to answer that. Surely he had to look like hell even after his shower. Dying, even temporarily, couldn't just be washed off. He leaned forward to press a kiss against Deidara's forehead and went for the front door. "We going or not?"</p><p>Deidara followed him outside to his car. It was an old heap of metal and plastic that barely held itself together anymore but for all intents and purposes it did its job. Even during the short walk through the rain he was already drenched from rain within seconds, his hair sticking to his forehead and neck. He hadn't cared to dry it after his shower anyway. Most people in the city didn't even bother with hoods or umbrellas anymore either unless they really couldn't afford to get sick. Deidara was already soaked and Hidan didn't get sick anymore.</p><p>He let himself flop into the driver's seat and waited for Deidara to take his place at his side. "So what's the deal?"</p><p>Deidara wrung out his hair, pointedly inside the car just to punish Hidan, and patted his chest down again. "No deal this time. You know how Konan's so worried about Yahiko? She wants us to check up on him."</p><p>Hidan started the car and pulled out of the parking spot. "Ugh, can't she just call him?"</p><p>"He isn't answering, super brain. She suspects that something happened."</p><p>"Oh, that's just fucking great. So where are we going?"</p><p>"Northern city. You know that building with the giant graffiti tiger on it? Around there."</p><p> </p><p>Housing areas at the edges of the town all looked mostly the same, apart from the distribution of varying immigrant groups. The northern city could be called the best part of the city to live in. Gentrification happening all over the place. While it was also home to a forest of grey apartment buildings, the first gated communities sprouted in the suburbs spreading into the countryside. Not that Hidan would ever have the chance to live in one of those. Not that he ever even wanted to. All that connected him to such a live was the occasional burglary he had committed when he had been younger.</p><p>The graffiti tiger rose over their heads, greeting everyone entering the concrete jungle. It was almost four by now and many people returned from work or headed out for their evening shifts.</p><p>Deidara had his feet up on the dashboard and watched the cars pass by, clicking his tongue. "This is why I wanted to go earlier. Everyone's coming back, we'll be seen."</p><p>"Or, because there's so many people, no one will notice us," Hidan replied.</p><p>"I hope you're right."</p><p>Deidara fell silent again, only speaking up to give Hidan directions. Eventually he parked the car two blocks away from their destination. All the buildings looked the same. Same structures, same shape of the balconies even, same depressing grey appearance. The insides of the apartments all had to look numbingly similar too.</p><p>Under Deidara's guidance they ended up on the fourth floor of one of the concrete giants staring at a locked door. The wind tore at Deidara's hair as he exchanged a look with Hidan and nodded at the door. Hidan rang the door bell and from behind the door the sound came back muffled.</p><p>No answer.</p><p>He rang again.</p><p>Not even the quietest sound of any movement from behind the door.</p><p>"Break it open then," Deidara prompted with crossed arms.</p><p>After first making sure that nobody was around to catch him pick a lock, Hidan got to work. Most people assumed, just from appearance, that he wasn't made for precise handiwork and while that was true for the most part, lock picking was something he had taught himself to be good at. It was a practical skill and ironically something that artistic Deidara never quite got behind.</p><p>The smell of blood hit them hard and all at once once the door swung open. Deidara scoffed and pressed a hand against his mouth. The stench stuck to everything, the inside of Hidan’s nose until he could taste the copper, his skin and it soaked into his clothes. When he took his hand from the handle he wiped it on his trousers.</p><p>“Get in, get in, come on.”</p><p>Deidara followed that command immediately. Neither of them would have wanted any of the neighbours catch wind of this.</p><p>Once they were inside, the smell embraced them completely and a small hallway greeted them. It was mostly empty with only one small dresser opposite to the kitchen door, holding a bowl for keys and a dried up potted plant. The wallpaper had a minimal, faintly blue dotted pattern and slowly peeled off the wall. The carpet was stomped to flatness and colourlessness. It was a rundown apartment like any other. Cheap, graceless, tasteless.</p><p>“Guess Konan was right to be concerned,” Hidan commented.</p><p>“Mhm.” Deidara nodded and leaned through the kitchen door, all his hair gathering over one shoulder. The kitchen was clean but not shiny. Only few dishes were in the sink but most surfaces were wiped, little dust having gathered ever since Konan started worrying. The plastic table only had enough space for two, maybe three people and a small number of plates was stored on it next to a worn-out briefcase.</p><p>The hallway had two doors on its left side, the kitchen and a small bathroom. At the end it led into a living room. The furniture was all held in the same colour scheme, in greys and oranges, a terrible contrast to the blue dotted wallpaper. On one wall hung a TV screen opposite to a grey couch. Some of the cushions were strewn on the floor, ripped apart with styrofoam orbs spilt across the ugly orange carpet. Between a coffee table and a corner of the room a corner of the carpet was drenched in dried brown and flaky blood pooling around a dead body.</p><p>“Fuck,” Deidara hissed, “This is- this is bad.”</p><p>“Yeah, no shit.” The body lay facedown next to a cabinet that had a blood stain on its edge. Hidan tipped it over with one foot.</p><p>Deidara pressed a hand against his face and breathed hard through his nose. “His face...”</p><p>It was smashed in beyond recognition. Yahiko was only recognisable by his bright orange hair and the rings pierced through his ears. His face was a mess of bloody, slimy flesh and bone shards. Underneath the body a pool of blood had gathered. Yahiko’s grey t-shirt was drenched in it, his trousers, his socks and his hair. The pool was thick and at the edges it had started to dry into the carpet. Bloody footprints walked away from the body and lost themselves on the linoleum floor of the hallway. Hidan followed them and then returned his attention to the living room. “This was pretty recent.”</p><p>“Seems fresh,” Deidara agreed.</p><p>Hidan looked down at the ripped open couch cushions and found one to dig through. More feathers and styrofoam orbs joined the floor. “Search the others.”</p><p>Deidara did so, careful to avoid stepping into the pool of blood. It was him who eventually discovered the first plastic bag with cocaine. It was buried deep inside the cushion. Hidan found another one. They ended up with four pounds and stuffed them into their backpacks.</p><p>“At least whoever did this wasn’t after the drugs."</p><p>Deidara zipped his backpack shut and shouldered it. Glancing back at Yahiko’s body he pulled a disgusted grimace. “You think this was the Hebi gang?”</p><p>Hidan shrugged. “Maybe.” Yahiko had always had lots of enemies, especially on the other side of the ever ongoing gang war between the Akatsuki and the Hebi. It wouldn’t have been unthinkable if the Hebi had finally been fed up with any existing code of honour and just decided to off him. But why leave the cocaine?</p><p>“This is so fucked,” Deidara went on, “We’re so fucked. Why would they do that?”</p><p>“Obviously they feel a little too fucking safe right now,” Hidan said. His eyes found the footprints on the carpet again and he followed them out of the living room. “Whoever it was must have been a big guy, I mean, look at these.” They stopped in front of the bathroom door. When he opened the door, a smell like something burnt filled his nostrils.</p><p>Inside the footprints faded away entirely. The room was mostly clean, the sink even meticulously so. But on the floor of the tiny shower lay the remains of a small first aid kit. The case was burnt black and most of its contents were singed and useless now.</p><p>Deidara poked his head in behind Hidan. “Damn.”</p><p>Hidan nodded. “So who’s gonna call Itachi?”</p><p>“I called him last time.” That was a lie, one that Deidara used too many times. Sometimes Hidan wondered why he asked the question in the first place. Deidara and Itachi hated each other and even separated through a phone they somehow managed to get into heated arguments within seconds.</p><p>“You owe me,” Hidan groaned searching and finding Itachi’s number in his phone.</p><p>Deidara hooked his chin over Hidan’s shoulder and put his arms around his middle, partly to rest his head and partly to be able to listen to the phone call anyway. “I can get you some of the good stuff, hm? The green ones. You like those. I can get them tonight.”</p><p>The prospect of spending the night with Deidara again seemed tempting enough. They hadn’t done anything together in weeks, always between jobs and differing sleep schedules.</p><p>He felt Deidara grin against his skin. “I think the next weeks aren’t gonna be fun, so we should get really, really fucked up before all that shit goes down, so we can be sober when things become complicated, yeah?”</p><p>“I guess,” Hidan agreed. He pressed the call button. “Now shut it for a while.”</p><p>Itachi picked up after the third ring. “What is it? I’m at work.” It was an impatient hiss demanding to know the reason that someone would interrupt him at work. In the background Hidan made out the noise of multiple people talking to each other or taking phone calls.</p><p>“Happy to hear your voice too,” Hidan replied, “You might wanna get out for a minute.”</p><p>Itachi sighed but then Hidan heard the sound of footsteps as Itachi left his group of colleagues, the background chatter growing quieter, and soon after a heavy door fell shut. “I’m outside. Now spit it out!”</p><p>“Yahiko’s dead.” It felt weird saying it out loud to someone who hadn’t seen the body yet. With Yahiko’s reputation as the Akatsuki organisation’s leader it was hard to imagine that he was gone now. But the evidence lay in the next room. Yahiko was very dead. Hidan almost envied him.</p><p>“Shit.”</p><p>“Mh-hm.”</p><p>“This is bad. This is really bad.”</p><p>Hidan sighed. “Tell me something I don’t already fucking know.”</p><p>“Where are you?”</p><p>“Northern city. Hideout four,” Deidara chimed in.</p><p>“We were just about to leave,” Hidan took over again before any of the other two could start anything.</p><p>“No one noticed anything yet?” Itachi asked.</p><p>Hidan returned to the living room and looked around. The room had windows overlooking a small backyard that apparently doubled as a makeshift parking lot for some residents. But the blinds were closed enough that nobody could peek in from the outside.</p><p>“The body is still pretty fresh. This happened only a few hours ago.” Hidan looked down at Yahiko’s smashed in skull again. “He was dead pretty quickly. And whoever did it still took their sweet time to clean himself up afterwards. Probably had some small injuries too. We found a first aid kit burning in the shower.”</p><p>Itachi was quiet on the other end, the kind of quiet he was when he was concentrating, probably taking notes with only one free hand.</p><p>He went on. “We also found the drugs, gonna take them with us.”</p><p>“Ah, Yahiko had some money saved in that hideout,” Itachi piped up.</p><p>“Yeah, that is gone.”</p><p>“Okay,” Itachi sighed, audibly shuffling around to take more notes. “Okay, I’m gonna have a unit sent out to get the body and you better get out of there before they arrive.”</p><p>"Who do you think we are?‟ Hidan replied. Without another word Itachi hung up first.</p><p>Deidara shouldered the backpack and nodded questioningly towards the door.</p><p>"Yeah, we wanna be out of here," Hidan agreed. The next police station was only a few blocks away and it wouldn’t take them long to send out one or two cars to investigate whatever white lie Itachi would tell his boss.</p><p>Outside Deidara and him took a deep breath of the air. It smelled like the building’s mould but infinitely better than blood and guts drying into a carpet. Whoever said you couldn’t wash yourself clean from the stench of death was wrong. Only minutes later they fell back into their respective car seats and left just as white and blue cars turned the corner and came to a stop in front of where they just left.</p><p> </p><p>The Rinnegan hotel happened to be one of the better hotels of the area. It wasn’t rundown. Its red brick facade gave it the charm of something old-fashioned and sophisticated. It looked nice even from the inside. The entrance hall was decorated in friendly, warm crème colours with nice carpets. It wasn’t big but all the more comfortable. The girl behind the reception desk recognised them and pointed at the door leading to the dining hall. Deidara waved at her as thanks.</p><p>The dining hall was divided in two. On one side tables were arranged in neat rows, complete with white table cloth. The other side was taken by broad couches and armchairs, also crème coloured, circling around coffee tables holding biscuits and sweeteners. Hotel guests slowly trickled in for dinner that wouldn’t be served for at least two more hours. Some old men had their noses buried in newspapers like it made them something better.</p><p>Konan’s blue hair stuck out in all of it. She was seated in a corner between the window front and the emergency exit door. She noticed them at the same time they noticed her and waved them over.</p><p>Deidara let himself flop down into the couch and bounce on it twice before making space for Hidan. There weren’t many things to enjoy about meeting with your boss but the comfortable seats were definitely a pro. What wasn’t a pro is what they had to report.</p><p>Konan leaned forward and rested her elbows on her knees. She didn’t fit into the hotel’s aesthetic and usual clientele. Her dark roots started to show again underneath the dye. Her lip piercing glinted which only mildly distracted from her smudged orange eye shadow. Her clothes made her look younger than she was, ripped jeans, a mesh shirt revealing the various flower designs she had tattooed all over her arms, shoulders, back and belly.</p><p>“What did you find?” she asked but it wasn’t what she really wanted to know.</p><p>“Found all four pounds,” Deidara answered carefully, “Got them here.”</p><p>Konan looked from him to Hidan. She had an engagement ring on her finger and it only almost made him feel bad when he told her “Yahiko’s dead.”</p><p>Her eyes widened before she closed them and let her chin sink to her chest. Hidan tried to remember one of the rare times that he hadn’t seen her and Yahiko together, always touching and practically inseparable.</p><p>“I’m sorry,” Deidara said quietly and shifted awkwardly where he was sitting.</p><p>Konan carefully dabbed at her eyes and took a deep breath. “What happened to him?”</p><p>Hidan looked at her, then down at the biscuits. “Someone got into the flat and overwhelmed him. No real signs of a break-in, though, and the coke was still there too. I don’t know, there was no money anywhere.”</p><p>Konan nodded slowly and took another breath before speaking. Her voice still came out shaky. “Yahiko never kept much money on him.”</p><p>Hidan shrugged. “Whoever did it was after the money and not the drugs.”</p><p>“Did you find any other clues?”</p><p>“Must have been a strong guy,” Deidara said, “I mean… “ He gestured vaguely at his face.</p><p>Konan looked from him to Hidan and back. “What do you mean? What-?”</p><p>“I don’t think you want to know but uh, we called Itachi already. He’s gonna send a unit.”</p><p>Hidan sighed in frustration. “His whole face was fucking smashed in.”</p><p>The small gasp Konan let out at that didn’t go unnoticed even if she tried to hide it behind a hand. Her blue nail polish was flaking off. It took a minute until she caught herself again, visibly forcing herself to stay calm but by now her shaking shoulders betrayed her grief. “At least we know it weren’t the Hebi. They would’ve taken the drugs.”</p><p>Hidan stole a biscuit from the plate between them.</p><p>“How’s Nagato?” Deidara asked carefully.</p><p>At least Konan looked like she was glad about the small distraction. As glad as one could be with the condition Nagato is in. “He’s stable. He’s resting upstairs. Sasori’s watching him.”</p><p>“That’s… that’s good.”</p><p>Hidan nudged him by the shoulder. “We’ll get going then. Payment as usual.”</p><p>Konan nodded absent-mindedly and didn’t prevent them from leaving any further.</p><p>Deidara was pulled free from some of the awkwardness between the three of them as Hidan dragged him up and away from the couch. They crossed the dining hall and Hidan made sure to steal more biscuits from some empty tables where they wouldn’t be missed. A part of him felt bad for leaving Konan behind without consoling her but the other stronger part stayed firm in that he didn’t want to get too involved with anyone else from the Akatsuki.</p><p>Deidara didn’t help it. He’d always been the more empathetic one between the two of them. On their way back to the car he crossed his arms behind his head and, still chewing on a vanilla biscuit, looked up at the sky. “I think they wanted to get married next year.”</p><p>“Too bad,” Hidan replied, “They should have thought about this sooner, then.” No one this deep in the business tended to live long, especially not when they were as idealistic as Yahiko.</p><p>They got back to the car just as it started raining again. Deidara cringed at the sight of the downpour washing over the windows, pattering noisily on the roof. “So, what’s the plan for tonight?”</p><p>Hidan shrugged. "Same as before. We’re gonna get fucked up while we still can." Yahiko’s death dragged a rat’s tail of consequences behind itself. Hidan wasn’t even sure if he could understand it all. Deidara and him, they were only pawns in the greater scheme of things, in it for the money and nothing else. But Yahiko dying, that was something big. Even he realised that.</p><p>"You still want me to get you the, uh, the green candy?"</p><p>Hidan waved dismissively. "I’ll get my own. Don’t waste your money of me. You wanna go ahead?"</p><p>Deidara frowned. "You’re going there again?"</p><p>"They have good stuff, Dei."</p><p>"Fine, yeah, I’m gonna go." Deidara directed another frown at the rain outside the car’s window. "But hurry, okay?"</p><p> </p><p>Over time the Yamanaka bar had become one of the more popular spots in the northern city. On the outside it was neon lights – bright pinks, greens and yellows – and cheap posters of bands consisting of youngsters were plastered all over the bricks. It was a miracle that the rain hadn’t washed them all off yet. Where there were no posters there was graffiti so ugly that Deidara scoffed at it every time they came here.</p><p>Yamanaka’s took up two floors. The regular bar was on the ground floor and on most evenings the same crowds found their way here. People passing by on their way home from work to get a drink before returning to the misery of their daily lives. The interior was mostly cut from wood. The tables, the booths and the counter. If it weren’t for the neon tubes, the pin-up posters among the band ones, and the unfittingly pastel menu cards, the whole thing would have a comfortable, warm cabin-in-the-woods atmosphere.</p><p>Instead there was music playing from the radio, drowned out by hard techno tunes from the basement where the real parties took place in this place and what most of the younger people came here for.</p><p>He found Naruto in his usual spot in a corner of the basement room, arms wrapped around the suitcase with all the good stuff. Money and candy neatly compartmentalized in sewn in pockets. The kid was dutiful in the way he carried out his job and for him, this was the best place to do it. Nobody ever picked a fight at Yamanaka’s without risking to be thrown out for life. As long as you behaved and were nice to the person who dealt you your stuff, no one had a reason to side-eye you. This wasn’t to say that people were particularly afraid of the kid. He was a scrawny boy, blond hair and blue eyes fitting into a high school heartthrob stereotype rather than this, and Hidan wasn’t even sure if he was even eighteen yet. What people feared more was losing their source. The man behind the pills was an ex-doctor by the name of Danzo who had built up a reputation of denying anyone who even so much as looked wrong at his dealers their access to heaven.</p><p>Hidan sat down opposite to the kid who simply looked up at him waiting for him to talk. All the while he didn’t let go of the suitcase in front of him, keeping it closed.</p><p>"You look down. Not a good day?"</p><p>The kid blew a tuft of hair from his forehead. "Old man Jiraiya’s been acting strange. ‘S been getting weird phonecalls."</p><p>"What’s new?" Something was always up with the old man. It was stranger when Naruto had nothing to say about him and whatever crazy thing happened at the orphanage. Hidan threw some bills on the table between them. "However many I get for this."</p><p>Naruto shrugged and reached into the suitcase. His hand came back with a small ziplock bag containing four pink, triangular pills.</p><p>Hidan took them. "I used to get five for that."</p><p>"Supply and demand kinda thing, sorry," Naruto answered, almost sounding bored. Sure enough he had to have explained that multiple times over the evening already. "Prices are probably gonna go up even more."</p><p>It was Hidan’s turn to shrug. "Whatever."</p><p>About to get up Naruto’s voice held him back again. "Hey, is it Hinata’s shift tonight?"</p><p>"Hm, yeah." Looking back at him Hidan was met with the biggest bluest puppy dog eyes a kid like Naruto could muster. "I’m a costumer. Don’t even try using me to fucking help you get a girl."</p><p>"But-"</p><p>Hidan’s phone vibrated with a series of texts by Deidara.</p><p>
  <em>whats takin you so long man</em>
</p><p>
  <em>im gonna start without you I swear</em>
</p><p>
  <em>hurry uppppp</em>
</p><p>"Gotta go," he told Naruto and before the kid could say anything further Hidan was already halfway through the Yamanaka’s back entrance.</p><p> </p><p>"I started without you," Deidara said without another greeting and once Hidan had closed the door behind himself, he blew some smoke directly into his face.</p><p>Taking advantage of their proximity Hidan wrapped an arm around his waist. "Yeah, I can see that." Deidara’s eyes were wide, the black almost swallowing the blue. It was almost a shame. It was the exact shade of blue Hidan imagined a clear sky free of rain clouds to look like.</p><p>Holding him close Hidan moved them back in Deidara’s apartment. He almost knew it better than his own despite the fact that Deidara didn’t keep anything in order. The main room was a mess of old newspapers, tubes with paint and a wide array of brushes. One corner was kept free for whenever Deidara could get his hands on clay, sculpturing being his real passion. For now it was occupied by a shapeless lump of clay. The bed in another corner wasn’t made and half of it was taken by several sketchbooks and an old laptop covered in any stickers he’d stolen from several smaller concerts.</p><p>Deidara put his arms around him if only so he could sneak a hand into his back pocket and pull out the ziplock bag. "What do we have here?"</p><p>Hidan snatched it back and pressed a kiss to Deidara’s cheek. "You don’t like this stuff."</p><p>Still Deidara leaned in to inspect the pills closer. "I just don’t get what <em>you</em> like about it. It makes me feel sick." And as if to prove a point he took another drag from the joint between his fingers.</p><p>"That’s because you’ve got ADHD and I don’t."</p><p>Deidara pulled a grimace and Hidan could practically watch the memories of his first trip pass over his face. He detached himself from the proximity they shared and vanished into his kitchen only to reappear with a six pack of canned beer. Two were promptly opened and Hidan downed a pill with it. The one good thing about his body was that it broke it down quickly, so he didn’t have as long as other people for it to take effect.</p><p>There was only one free corner of Deidara’s sofa and he let himself flop down there kicking his shoes off and putting his feet up on the coffee table. It was covered with paint-stained newspapers, the remote for a small boxy TV lost somewhere in the room. Deidara sat down next to him in the cramped space, pushing aside any clutter but eventually giving up and leaning against Hidan’s side after fishing one of the countless sketchbooks from under the table.</p><p>Detached from him Hidan took him in. Deidara had always been pretty, in differing ways too, even though he didn’t like being called that. <em>Pretty</em> was a word for girls. Blond hair finally dry and tied up loosely in the back, some of it falling over his shoulder. He took care of himself, for the most part, sometimes going as far to wear make-up to make his face appear more masculine. He did most things for the sake of that, wearing loose, oversized shirts and sweaters when he wasn’t binding, mostly only the comfort of his own home like he was now.</p><p>"Been working on some," Deidara said returning to his spot on Hidan’s side and flipping through the pages of his booklet. It had scribbles and sketches on all pages, some figures that were merely rough lines, others that were clear and only few that were actual finished works, detailed and shaded and everything. Even fewer of these artworks had a corresponding clay figurine standing on a shelf above Deidara’s bed. The sketch he stopped at to show Hidan was of a bird, sharp beak and wings halfway extended. Every feather was clearly recognisable and a pattern on its belly perfectly outlined. "I was thinking about this one."</p><p>Hidan looked it over again. "It’s good. I like it."</p><p>"Mh-hm. And what do you really think?"</p><p>"Would I lie to you?"</p><p>Deidara raised his brows, visibly thinking behind those blown-wide eyes of his. "You have no pattern to lying. Makes it hard to guess."</p><p>"Ask me again when I’m high. I promise I’m honest." He pointed at the sketchbook. "And I’m gonna say the same thing. It’s great. Art school would have been wasted on you. You’d have ended up teaching the profs."</p><p>Deidara fished a pencil from somewhere, put it between the pages and threw the book back onto the coffee table. "They couldn’t have handled my unquestionable genius." Dramatically swooning he lay down across Hidan’s lap and blew smoke up into his face. His t-shirt read a band whose name was already mostly washed out.</p><p>"Fuck yeah! That’s the spirit." Slowly the pills started to take effect. The room felt warmer, the next huff of smoke Deidara blew up at him almost burning in his face. "How much d’you still need?"</p><p>This made Deidara sigh heavily. "Ugh. Too much."</p><p>"Yeah?"</p><p>Deidara stared up at the ceiling, lifting his free hand, fingers spread, and counting down. "There’s the transition, tuition, moving out, my meds…" He trailed off. "And that’s optimistic thinking. Yahiko’s fucking dead."</p><p>Hidan nodded slowly.</p><p>"I’ve got a little over half. But if we keep going at this rate we’ll have it all in like two years."</p><p>"Mh-hm."</p><p>Deidara knocked his elbow into his side but the pain of it got lost in the pleasant tingle that took over Hidan’s body, skin running warm and hands growing restless. "Don’t <em>mh-hm</em> me. And stop that."</p><p>Hidan looked down at where his fingers kept drumming against Deidara’s thigh. Once he noticed, he stopped. It felt wrong, denying himself movement, and so he went on by bouncing his leg. "We’re in this together, and we’re close."</p><p>It wasn’t often that he said things like this. The emotional stuff that Deidara liked to call sappy when he was sober. But they weren’t sober right now, and the pills made him feel happier than he should be with everything going on. Everything going on outside the apartment, everything going on between them.</p><p>"We’ll make it."</p><p>
  <em>You’ll make it. Not me, just you.</em>
</p><p>"Sappy." Deidara drew out the first syllable and sat up with an annoyed huff at the way Hidan’s knee dug into his back from the bouncing.</p><p>"Hey, sorry I brought it up, okay? We’re supposed to have fun right now before everything goes to shit."</p><p>He took a hold of Hidan’s hand and his skin felt softer than it should, much warmer. It felt nice. He twined their fingers together.</p><p>"So what d’you wanna do?" They had known each other for years now and Hidan could interpret all of Deidara’s expressions. "Wanna paint my nails?"</p><p>Deidara looked at him, down at their hands, and back at his face, seeming to consider doing just that. Then he stubbed his joint out in an ashtray somewhere between the newspapers, keeping the last drag in his lungs for several seconds, and turned back to Hidan, breathing out smoke when he spoke. "I think we’re supposed to have fun and I’d like your hands somewhere else."</p><p>Hidan grinned down at him, detangling their hands to grip Deidara by the hips and hoist him into his lap. The pills had him buzzing with the need to do anything, to move and act and just get rid of all the new energy building up inside him. Just touching, skin to skin contact, made him tingle with excitement while he let his hands roam under Deidara’s shirt and along the curve of his back and waist. Not higher. They had done this countless times and, high or not, Deidara didn’t like his chest being touched. So instead he focused on sucking marks on his neck, biting at them to bring out some first soft sighs.</p><p>Deidara ground down against him, his body a sole source of heat and want. He managed to get the zipper of Hidan’s jacket down and his fingers found their way underneath his shirt, stroking softly, following the lines of muscle. He was right in a way. Hidan felt too hot in his own clothes, too cramped; his trousers became painfully tight, too warm despite the tears at the knees.</p><p>Deidara grabbed his chin with one hand and pulled him into an open-mouthed kiss that tasted like smoke, beer and something sweet underneath. Hidan wasted no time in returning the kiss just as good as he got, swallowing all of Deidara’s sighs. With a hand firm on his back he kept them close together. This wasn’t something for them to do sober. That was what made it special, in a way. Kept them from interpreting too much into it that they weren’t supposed to.</p><p>Just when they were about to part for air Deidara bit down hard on Hidan’s bottom lip and dragged his finger nails sharply down his abdomen. Hidan groaned. Leaning back from each other he watched Deidara watch him lick up the faint trickle of blood running from his lip.</p><p>"That hurt?" Deidara asked with a self-satisfied grin while trailing his hands over Hidan’s shoulders in an attempt to get him to shrug off the jacket.</p><p>Hidan humoured him and the garment landed on the floor among painting utensils. The cut kept bleeding and he gave up on it, letting the trickle run down his chin. "You gotta try harder."</p><p>Deidara was on him again within the blink of an eye, not one to ignore a challenge. They knew each other in and out, knew each other’s limits and dislikes, knew the things that got the other going.</p><p>He didn’t quite remember how they eventually got to Deidara’s bed, clothes shed along the way safe for Deidara’s t-shirt, tangled up in each other. Some of it was playful. The pushing, the pulling, the pinning down of wrists into the sheets only to prove that they could. Other things were vicious, finger nails digging into skin and sometimes breaking it, the biting.</p><p>Deidara liked kissing. He had confessed that the first time they fucked after he had come out to Hidan. It kept the noise down, noise high-pitched that he didn’t like to hear coming from himself. He was fine with it being swallowed. Besides that, he found the breathlessness quite thrilling. Hidan didn’t disagree.</p><p>So they kissed, and when they weren’t kissing he let Deidara bite down on his shoulder, revelling in it. Even without the pills the pain would have turned into pleasure but like this it made him dizzy, made him hungry for more of it. Finally entering tight, wet heat made Deidara bite him bloody. Hidan liked him like that. Underneath him, face flushed brightly down to where his skin disappeared under his shirt collar, mouth half opened and teeth stained with blood. Eyes wide and almost pleading for him to just go on.</p><p>He didn’t tell him he was pretty but he thought it anyway.</p><p>The high wouldn’t last forever and once they were done he would be asked to leave and he would be fine with that. He had his own bed to return to, no matter how miserable it was.</p><p> </p><p>***</p><p> </p><p>The stitches looked bad. That bastard had really managed to catch him in the face and cut him so deeply that – while he hadn’t pierced through his cheek – Kakuzu could feel the wound with his tongue. Taste it even. The wound had started bleeding again just as he had put half the way home behind him. It had even seeped through the mask and he could only thank the dark cloth and the rain that barely anyone on the streets had batted an eye at the view. Face masks were common enough and the rain usually drenched them along with all other clothing.</p><p>Inspecting the wound again in his bathroom mirror Kakuzu pulled out the stitches he had hurriedly given himself. It was a surprisingly clean cut considering it had been caused by only the slash of fingernails, splitting his face from the corner of his mouth to his ear.</p><p>Once the bleeding stilled again, helped by cold water washing the wound clean, he rummaged through the bathroom closet. He found painkillers and dental floss, the former he’d missed at the other man’s house. He swallowed two and took a deep breath before he got to work once more, fiddling the floss into the needle ear.</p><p>The stinging pain numbed his face more than the painkillers did.</p><p>Damn Yahiko! Damn them all! Until now everything had gone just the way he had planned. Flawlessly, really. No complications. He hadn’t allowed himself any slip-ups and it had gotten him through his list of few names quicker than he had assumed.</p><p>The whole ordeal went by surprisingly easy. As it turned out Hashirama still preferred to go out for walks regularly, so early in the morning that barely anyone was awake yet. A nature fanatic at heart he was drawn to parks and the outdoors in general. Any place abandoned by people was where he felt more at peace. But now it had become his downfall. In the solitude of nature he had become the first victim. A day later several news channels speculated over the motive of the unknown murderer that killed their most beloved mayor candidate.</p><p>From the other room the TV filled the silence of his apartment with more chatter by newscasters. A woman recapped the Tobirama murder. He had been the second, always second in life as in death. With him being Hashirama’s closest family member he had expected him to not leave his residence without newly employed guards but, true to his own stubborn, prideful personality, he apparently hadn’t found it necessary. While he put up a good struggle, in the end it was fruitless and he went to join his brother.</p><p>Everything had gone so well.</p><p>And now this.</p><p>Kakuzu put the last stitch and cut off the rest of the floss. It looked ugly and as home-made as it was. At least the painkillers finally began to kick in and instead of pain made his mouth feel like TV static.</p><p>Another newscaster started talking, taking over the topic and behind him they showed drone footage of an apartment building in the northern city. Kakuzu checked the clock. It had been eight hours since he left the scene there, so judging from the police’s late appearance none of the building’s residence had noticed him.</p><p>Getting caught now would be unfortunate to say the least. After fifteen years in prison he was finally out again. He had managed to get a stable job as an office worker even though the owner was still suspicious of letting him handle any money, eyes always downcast on the tattooed rings around Kakuzu’s forearms. He would have to quit there too once his vendetta was complete. He would have to give up the apartment he had now, too. It wasn’t anything big, nor something fancy. It was a pleasantly cheap one, especially given its location close to the city’s centre. The furniture he had mostly served practical purposes and while he didn’t particularly liked the look of it, it was a vast improvement from the dingy apartment in the northern city he had had before.</p><p>Only two more targets and then finally he could move. He could finally leave the city, start a new life somewhere else where nobody knew him or his history. He could leave before anyone would even make the connection between him and the murders. "This is only a minor setback," he told his reflection. His face was pale from blood loss. But all his goals were still manageable.</p><p>But some things had to be taken care of now.</p><p>He could throw away his shirt. It was drenched in blood that, for the most part, wasn’t his own. No detergent in the world would be able to wash it out now. At least his jacket hadn’t taken too many damages but the same applied. Blood stains on the inside from when he made his way back home and tried to hide his appearance. He had to get rid of it too. Better safe than sorry. This was about to become a cumbersome endeavour.</p><p>Leaving the bathroom, the TV greeted him with a pixelated series of images of Yahiko’s body. The newscaster was still talking over it, spouting nothing that Kakuzu didn’t already know. With some luck, the murder of the Akatsuki’s leader would be pinned on the Hebi gang. Leaving the TV on, Kakuzu started to gather everything he needed to get rid of.</p><p>The bloodied clothing, for one. The notebooks he kept, taking notes on the Senjus’ daily lives and routines among other things, notes on his other targets that he had fully memorised by now. It all had to go.</p><p>He’d given his best to get this apartment and he wouldn’t risk it by missing out any incriminating evidence. Even if it meant sacrificing what few belongings he had. It wouldn’t even look strange to an outsider. Just out of prison there was nothing much in his possession and a few items more or less wouldn’t draw attention. Blood on his hands, so shortly after being let off the hook, that would be a problem. And that was putting it lightly.</p><p>Kakuzu stuffed everything into a bag. The painkillers finally kicked in and while half his face still felt like it had swollen to double its usual size, the pain had faded into a dull, bearable ache. He put two more pills into a pocket on the inside of his jacket, and added a water bottle to his luggage.</p><p>It paid to be prepared.</p><p>The bloody face mask he left behind and instead opted for his scarf.</p><p> </p><p>Amegakure’s river was something of a tourist attraction in itself. The way that the never-ending rain made its currents always run higher than they were supposed to be had carved an odd valley right through the city. The few bridges that went across it were those that made bow over the water, and the shores were harshly cut under them. A part of the city lived almost solely from the fish that the current washed down the river and into the lake accumulated from it, dug into the ground by the river after a steep fall. At the lake and the smaller rivers flowing from it the water was calmer.</p><p>It was where fishers went. Sometimes even people trying to catch the rare glimpses of sun. A lot of things changed during time but not the nature of men. Even in prison Kakuzu had sometimes seen the ads for activities that could be done on sunny days. Families in paddle boats, swimmers, a photoshopped blue sky.</p><p>At night it was empty, only few lights turned on in the windows of a few scattered fishing huts. He could watch them go out one by one from up the waterfall. This spot was one used frequently back in his time. The waterfall hid car noise. While it wasn’t a forest, the trees framing the city provided protection from being seen immediately while still allowing to watch over the lake like from a viewing platform. Back then it had been a place for young couples to meet, after that a place for several different drug dealers to exchange wares. It had been common knowledge among most of the youth.</p><p>Some of those had to have become police themselves. The area was deserted with the exception of some lonely cars passing by on the main road, not nearly close enough to the waterfall for the headlights to make a difference.</p><p>You were alone here. That was the point.</p><p>You could burn things here and throw the ashes in the wind.</p><p>The fire was quickly lit. Sure, the wood smoked from the eternal dampness of Amegakure and its surrounding area but Kakuzu had spent his journey to the city lighting fires. Even after all these years he could follow the motions. Digging out the driest wood from under log piles and keeping it under his jacket before piling it up where the rain only came through the treetops as a drizzle.</p><p>The clothes went into the flames first. It was the easiest, food for the fire. The warmth was also something he wouldn’t deny himself, staying close to keep the wind from blowing more rain than avoidable into the fire. No attention paid to the way it made his hair stick to his neck, slowly soaking through his scarf. It was uncomfortable all the while his face and front was kept dry by the rising heat.</p><p>He was even close to letting his shoulders slump. He’d burn everything that could incriminate him and then he’d be safe again. He had been careful. He would change jobs, ditch the office work and exchange it with something more fitting.</p><p>Through the trees the headlights of a car passed by, not noticing the fire through the curtain of rain and twigs and bushes.</p><p>Kakuzu watched it come and go.</p><p>And come back again, taking the exit to make its way down the gravel road. Towards the fire.</p><p>Whoever was driving didn’t bother to turn down the headlights as they approached and eventually came to a stop. Even with the motor turned off, the lights stayed on, blindingly bright. Kakuzu could barely make out the size of the vehicle, something small. Not a truck, nothing reinforced, not a police car.</p><p>For too many moments nothing happened.</p><p>Then, finally, the lights went down, leaving Kakuzu to blink away the spots dancing behind his eyes in an attempt to make out who sat behind the wheel.</p><p>Out the driver’s side came a young man, immediately crossing his arms against the cold outside his car. He only wore a thin jacket that was soaked through within seconds, ripped jeans clinging to him even without the help of rain, heavy boots. In the light of the fire and the car’s lights his hair was a bright white. Arms still crossed, brows raised and mouth pressed into a thin line he walked up to the fire.</p><p>Kakuzu stepped forward only to obscure his bag and its contents behind himself.</p><p>"Didn’t think I’d run into someone," the man said, somewhere between relieved and disappointed. "Mind if I warm myself up a bit?"</p><p>"I mind." Talking felt strange with half of Kakuzu’s face still feeling numb from the painkillers. It made his voice come out rough and low, almost a growl. Hopefully, it was enough to intimidate the other just a little.</p><p>"Oh damn, okay." Still the younger stayed where he was, humming when the heat of the fire hit his face. "So what’s this? You don’t wanna be identified?"</p><p>Kakuzu suppressed the urge to flinch at that. Was it that obvious what was happening here? Was it so easy to see through him? People around him used to tell him the opposite. He was hard to read, and maybe believing them had been wrong of him, something too cocky. "What are you talking about?"</p><p>Confusion, then understanding flew over the other man’s face. In the light his eyes had an unusual colour, almost blood red with flames in them, probably purple in regular daylight. An albino, then. "So you’re not here to… okay, got it."</p><p>"To do what?"</p><p>The albino’s eyes met this head on. He was smiling slightly, the corners of his mouth raised knowingly. "People off themselves here. But, I don’t know…. Let me guess: burning your past? New start? Something like that."</p><p>Kakuzu frowned at him. "Something like that."</p><p>"Something like that." Surrounding by the purple his pupils were large and he rocked himself back and forth on his feet, rubbing his hands along his arms as though he was cold. An albino who was also high.</p><p>"What are you doing here?" It wasn’t meant to be a question, but an opportunity for the other to notice that he was supposed to leave.</p><p>The albino looked at him again. "Just told you. People off themselves here. But not tonight, I guess. Wouldn’t want to traumatise someone."</p><p>Kakuzu didn’t quite know what to answer to that. Suicidal people weren’t what he was well-versed in. There had been deaths in prison, self-inflicted, but in the rarest cases did they announce it.</p><p>The other man sauntered around the fire to escape the smoke when the wind changed direction. His eyes fell to the bag at Kakuzu’s feet. "I see you got plenty of more stuff to burn." And with that he came closer leaning down to grab it. "Bet I can guess your life story from all this. I’m good with things like that."</p><p>Kakuzu snatched his bag up before he could reach it. "I never agreed that you could stay."</p><p>"Oh, come on, big guy. Scared I’ll be too accurate?" He crossed his arms again, grinning.</p><p>"Don’t come any closer. Don’t touch my belongings. If you’re not gonna take the jump, get driving and go home again."</p><p>"Got it, got it." The man held his hands up defensively. "One last thing: there any chance you have a smoke?" A pause in which his grin returned for a short chuckle. "Well, I mean. Stupid question. I don’t think you’re supposed to smoke with… that in your face. Looks mean. You got in a fight with the Hebi or something? I hope you beat that guy up." With those last words he looked Kakuzu up and down.</p><p>Kakuzu knew himself that he was strong above average. Part of it were genes, the other were days, weeks, months and years in prison with barely anything else to do but to build up muscle.</p><p>"What is it to you?"</p><p>The man shrugged. "Just curious. Anyway, so you probably don’t have a cig to spare?"</p><p>"Will you leave me alone if I give you one?"</p><p>"Sure, I’ll just come back tomorrow. What’s one more day?"</p><p>Kakuzu huffed out a sigh, the friction of the air hurting the cut on his face. He’d have to take the other painkillers before he made his way home again. "I’ll see if I have some. Don’t touch anything."</p><p>The other nodded dutifully and wrapped his jacket around himself a little tighter.</p><p>Kakuzu had parked only a few feet away from where the other had parked. More to the side, out of the way. Ready to make a round turn and leave again. Ever since he was a free man again he hadn’t used his car that much, mostly taking public transport just to get used to people again, and only using it for long distances. If he remembered correctly, he still had to have some cigarettes left from the first pack he bought the second day after he got out. Not even to smoke, just for it to keep him company, to have something familiar after fifteen years of using it as currency. He even picked a bad brand to not get tempted into using them up too quickly.</p><p>And now it was payment to get rid of an annoying brat.</p><p>Sure enough, the package was still in its place in the inside of the driver’s side’s door.</p><p>"Oh, ex-prisoner," the man said and let out an impressed whistle after. "Damn, you got quite a diary, huh?"</p><p>Kakuzu whirled around. Was faced with the sight of the younger man holding one of the notebooks in his hands. The notebooks that held all the information he had gathered over months.</p><p>"Didn’t I tell you not to touch anything?" Now the growl was deliberate. Cigarettes forgotten he strutted back to the fire, blood pumping through him with anger.</p><p>The other man only grinned back at him, seemingly unfazed by how fast Kakuzu approached him. "Where would be the fun in following everything I’m told." His eyes went back to the pages.</p><p>However much he read, it was too much.</p><p>Kakuzu ripped the notebook from his hands, threw it right into the flames, making sparks fly, and slammed the other man into the nearest tree.</p><p>"Read something I wasn’t supposed to?"</p><p>An albino in Amegakure, dressed like a punk, high on something and uncaring of his own life. The man reeked of illegal business. "Who do you work for?"</p><p>He smirked for not even a second, eyes still wide and looking up at Kakuzu with something he couldn’t quite grasp. "I think you know. From what I just read you killed him today."</p><p>So this was one of Yahiko’s people. Kakuzu didn’t quite know if he should be disappointed. The man didn’t defend himself in the slightest, just let himself be pinned against the tree by the shoulders. He hadn’t even attempted to struggle. Didn’t even seem to mind it a lot.</p><p>If it was all an act, it was a good one.</p><p>"Hey, about that cig…"</p><p>He couldn’t stay alive. And what was one more death? Kakuzu’s hands were blood-stained already. Nobody in the city would miss an Akatsuki member, especially if he had come here to die anyway. Why not grant him that wish?</p><p>"Hey-"</p><p>He gripped the albino’s face hard and slammed his head hard against the tree trunk. Once.</p><p>Twice.</p><p>Until there was an ugly crack and the body went slack, bleeding from the back of his head, silver hair staining red.</p><p>If he wasn’t dead yet, the waterfall would take care of the rest. The head wound would come from a rock. The car would be found. It would be a suicide. Unrelated to the city’s murders.</p><p>Burning the rest of the notebooks happened quickly but thoroughly. He made sure that not a single page survived. Everything ashes.</p><p>No ties to whatever happened in the city.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>I hope you enjoyed this chapter!</p><p>My <a href="https://remshamiar.tumblr.com/">tumblr</a></p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Enigma (Past II)</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p class="western">There was only so much Hidan knew having never finished school and never having cared about his education in the first place. But it was in moments like this – being washed ashore, dizzy and aching with pain all over – that he was certain that he knew one thing, something that was his universal truth: Life sucked.</p>
<p class="western">Getting your head smashed unprovoked sucked. Being tossed down a waterfall and getting your head smashed yet again sucked even more. And it sucked the most when you came back from the dead only to wake up under heavy currents of water dragging you along with them unable to fight them. The water was in his lungs, filled up his stomach, made him heavy and defenceless. Mercy finally came when they washed him into shallower waters and he could finally grasp onto something solid and drag himself onto dry land.</p>
<p class="western">Vision blurry and everything around him swimming and moving, he let himself fall into the sand of whatever beach he ended up at. The sand was rough on his face, itching when it reached the wound on his head. Carefully he reached up to touch it, wincing and feeling the sticky wetness of blood. His fingers came away red.</p>
<p class="western">"Fucking great." Talking only made sand stick to the inside of his mouth.</p>
<p class="western">The urge to throw up only came a short while later. Dirty water, all of it, his lungs rejecting it painfully. Coughing it all up left them burning as though they hollowed out from his gasping, as though he might as well have coughed them out along with the dirt.</p>
<p class="western">At least his head felt a little clearer then, his body a little lighter, and his vision returned to normal again. Mostly at least. Some spots still danced in front of his eyes, but it was enough to be able to make out where he was.</p>
<p class="western">The beach belonged to one of the public areas of the lake where people could go swimming if they wanted to. Something that was entirely obsolete in a city where the rain never ended. It pattered down on him mercilessly and drowned out most of the noise coming from the waterfall crashing down hard over rounded rocks. Up the cliff rose the dark crowns of the national park and lights shone through the trees. One of them might have been his car’s headlights but he wasn’t sure.</p>
<p class="western">The one other thing he knew for sure, though, was that it would be a bitch of a hike returning there.</p>
<p class="western">He sat up hurriedly and patted his pockets for his phone. He found it with a shattered display and unresponsive.</p>
<p class="western">"Shit."</p>
<p class="western">At least it was still night. He had time to return to his car, time to return to the city. And so he dragged himself away from the beach, body still trying to catch up with its own healing process while he pushed it to move more than he probably should while he was still recovering. Nevertheless he kept going. Onward and onward.</p>
<p class="western">He found the road and followed the serpentine leading up the slope. Soon it entered the forest, trees rising on both sides and making everything appear even darker. He didn’t know how late it was but was relieved by the lack of other cars taking this route to go in or out of the city. The highways had to be much busier. All the better for him. He looked horrible. Like a zombie with his drenched, muddy and torn clothes and the leftover blood clotted in his hair even though the actual wound had closed by now.</p>
<p class="western">At some point the rain decided to become stronger and poured down on him hard, drops hitting his face sharply and at times making it hard to breathe.</p>
<p class="western">The rain sucked. He raised his head and told the rain clouds that. Put his middle finger up at no one.</p>
<p class="western">When he finally reached his car, he felt liquid from the rain and stiff from the cold at the same time. Mud and fir needles filled his boots, all his clothes clung to him tightly. Just a glance in the rearview mirror made him cringe at the sight of himself. Not even in the most horrible times of his life had he felt as miserable as he looked.</p>
<p class="western">The fire place was gone, ashes scattered and even the circle of rocks wasn’t there anymore. The man burning his old life wasn’t there anymore. No trace of him left, just as he had intended probably.</p>
<p class="western">At least his car was still unlocked, keys having stayed in the ignition, and he dropped himself into the driver’s seat. His body burning from exhaustion. He didn’t even care that he was ruining the seat coverings. Couldn’t care any less really. He peeled off his boots and soaked socks and tossed them into the leg room of the other seat.</p>
<p class="western">He was going to find that fucker and pay him back. He was going to track him down and revel in the no doubt horrified look in the man’s eyes when he realised that he was still alive and kicking.</p>
<p class="western">For a while, though, he just revelled in just being out of the rain, being able to breathe properly again and once his body felt normal again, he turned on the motor.</p>
<p class="western">The car came to life for a last huff, the digital clock on display giving him the current time – 4.45am – and then it gave a worrisome cough and stilled entirely under him.</p>
<p class="western">The battery light blinked at him.</p>
<p class="western">Mockingly.</p>
<p class="western">He punched the steering wheel a few times, biting his lip until it bled but then let out a frustrated shout anyway.</p>
<p class="western">No car, no phone. The city, his flat was a two hour drive away from him. Over the edge of the waterfall he saw lightning in the sky.</p>
<p class="western">Life really sucked.</p>
<p class="western">Maybe he should just throw himself down the waterfall again and hope for the best.</p>
<p class="western"><br/>
<br/>
</p>
<p class="western">***</p>
<p class="western"><br/>
<br/>
</p>
<p class="western">The place was a pastel crème coloured lion’s den. A hotel on the outside and inside, apart from its backrooms. And apparently the dining hall since that was where he was currently seated. At a table in the corner, shielded from view by movable screens with flower patterns on them.</p>
<p class="western">A lion’s den nonetheless. Kakuzu was more than aware of the undercover guards. One seated only a few tables away under the guise of being just another harmless hotel guest with his nose buried in a newspaper. Another one had bypassed him in the lobby exchanging a look with the girl at the reception desk. Not to mention Kisame sitting right next to him. There weren’t many men taller than Kakuzu but Kisame was one of them. Built tall and broad-shouldered, muscles bulging under dark brown skin, he had the appearance of an intimidating guy if it weren’t for the lack of any stern expression in his face. The only other thing that gave him a somewhat rough appearance were the small scars underneath his right eye. For now, however, he simply went on to smile a smile that was something between apologetic and understanding.</p>
<p class="western">“You don’t have to be nervous. It’ll go well, I’m sure.”</p>
<p class="western">Kakuzu stopped drumming his fingers on his thigh, suddenly aware that he had been doing it. He crossed his arms and leaned back in his chair. He had never been a patient person and with the added nervousness of soon facing the leader of one of the city’s most notorious gangs didn’t help that. “She’s taking too long.”</p>
<p class="western">Kisame chuckled. “You’ve got to let it slide for her. Things have been rough lately.”</p>
<p class="western">“So I’ve heard.”</p>
<p class="western">“Oh, so you… yeah, it was on the news.” Kisame sighed, lips pressed together. “You know I was surprised when you contacted me.” They had gotten to know each other back in prison when Kisame had been sentenced to two years for drug possession. Lucky bastard that he was he had gotten out six months earlier for good behaviour, only to immediately jump back into business working for the Akatsuki. He had contacted Kakuzu a few times after that, just to keep up with him and always with the offer to get him a job whenever he finally got out too. “I’ve always thought you’d get around to become something… more than this. I mean you have the experience and all that.”</p>
<p class="western">“We all have our low points.” He met Kisame’s concerned gaze with his own hoping that it didn’t betray the true level of worry he kept bottled up. Being here could be the smartest move he would ever make, or it could be the dumbest and everything would be over for him. A high risk to take but one he had to take if he wanted to try and secure himself in the city in some way. He nodded towards a clock that hung above the door to the kitchens. “She was supposed to be here fifteen minutes ago.”</p>
<p class="western">“She’ll have a reason. She just lost her fiancé after all. Taking over everything he built up must be stressful for her.”</p>
<p class="western">Kakuzu suppressed a groan. Of course the Akatsuki’s leader would have such a connection to Yahiko. All he could do was to keep up an unbothered facade, like this was nothing but any other interview. Just like when he had been younger and nervous for his first job, or like all the times when the prison guards had let him wait in a sterile room for his anger management therapist to appear. Kisame seemingly not catching on to anything was at least helping a little to make him less nervous.</p>
<p class="western">“And then there’s the thing with Nagato,” Kisame continued conversationally, “No one saw that coming, the seizures and all. Poor guy’s nothing but a vegetable now. I’m no doctor but I doubt he’ll make it long. And Sas’s doing all he can – speak of the devil.”</p>
<p class="western">Konan entered the dining hall followed by another man, smaller than her and with bright red hair. From just the way he was walking it wasn’t noticeable but the hollowness of his right trouser leg gave away the prosthesis underneath. They passed the other tables and Kisame stood up to push out Konan’s chair for her. She gave him a smile for that, a soft one that didn’t quite reach her eyes but was genuine nonetheless. “Thank you.”</p>
<p class="western">Looking closer nothing reached her eyes. She had dark circles underneath them and they were bloodshot and swollen from tears and sleeplessness. The dark roots of her hair were thin as well. As though she had spent the entire night crying and tearing her hair, and given what he knew that probably was what had happened. Still she tried to appear collected and apart from her appearance her mere presence succeeded in that. She held out her hand for Kakuzu to shake with an authority that wouldn’t tolerate rejection. So he shook it and they settled down in their respective chairs again.</p>
<p class="western">He glanced at the smaller man – Sasori, he assumed – but only got a shake of the head.</p>
<p class="western">“So you’re Kakuzu. Kisame told me about you,” Konan started matter-of-factly, “Last name?”</p>
<p class="western">“Hoku.”</p>
<p class="western">“Tell me about yourself, Mr Hoku.”</p>
<p class="western">“Just got out of prison and now I’m looking for work. I was hoping to find it here.”</p>
<p class="western">Konan nodded in consideration. “Kisame told me you used to work as an accountant.”</p>
<p class="western">“Correct.”</p>
<p class="western">“I like knowing who works for me,” Konan stated coldly, “Any information you give to me freely is something I won’t have to dig up about you later. So I suggest you stop keeping it brief.”</p>
<p class="western">That resoluteness of hers was equally admirable and irritating. So he told her what she wanted to hear and most of it he kept close enough to the truth that even an investigation into his person wouldn’t find anything contradicting. Kisame decided to be helpful as well, filling in gaps in Kakuzu’s tale when he thought it appropriate and once going on a tangent with an anecdote of their time together all these years ago.</p>
<p class="western">Konan kept nodding along with him, asking questions in between to get more details out of him, and by the end she seemed content enough with what information she had obtained. There was nothing for her to be discontent with. He had had a formal education, had been in contact with the Akatsuki before via some poor bastards that got themselves locked up. He knew how money worked in Amegakure because the flow of money was something that never changed. He had a history of being able to work discreetly and keeping his mouth shut, something that Kisame could even confirm. “Very well then, Mr Hoku, consider yourself hired. Sasori, would you please contact-”</p>
<p class="western">“Already done,” Sasori interrupted her, putting his phone down. He had a monotone voice making him sound distant and disinterested in what was going on, “They should be here in thirty.”</p>
<p class="western">“Thank you. Mr Hoku, from now on you’ll work for the Akatsuki. You seem like a hard-working and cautious man so I won’t need to tell you this but these are qualities I’d like for you to keep up. We can protect you from the law but only to a certain extent. Furthermore, should we find out that you even so much as think of betraying us…” She let the rest of the sentence hang in the air like a sword tied to a fragile thread above his head. Not that he needed clarification anyway. “Kisame spoke highly of you.” <em>Don’t disappoint him or me</em>, she didn’t say. “It was a pleasure to meet you. I’ll leave you to it. Good day.”</p>
<p class="western">With that she got up and left, Sasori on her heels who didn’t bother with saying anything. Once they were out of the dining hall, Kakuzu took a deep breath of relief and became aware of the tension in his shoulders.</p>
<p class="western">Kisame chuckled again. “I knew you’d get the job. Never a need to worry.”</p>
<p class="western">Kakuzu felt a sudden need to strangle the other man. Kisame had no idea how many bullets there were to dodge. But now he had the job, he was a part of the Akatsuki, an organisation he had already betrayed in the worst way possible.</p>
<p class="western">“You want me to wait for the boys with you?”</p>
<p class="western">And because Kakuzu chose not to answer that at all, Kisame took that as a sign to stick around.</p>
<p class="western"><br/>
<br/>
</p>
<p class="western">***</p>
<p class="western"><br/>
<br/>
</p>
<p class="western">“You look like a damn zombie,” Deidara said first thing as Hidan stepped out of his building’s lobby to meet him.</p>
<p class="western">He had managed to get home at some ungodly hour in the morning and since then hadn’t found sleep. He rarely ever did but this time he at least had something other than his brain to blame. He blamed the cold stuck in his bones, the way that he had to peel himself out of his drenched clothes and how he needed to wait for the wound on his head to heal before he could even think of lying down anywhere. Sleep wasn’t even an option when he was still very much awake with rage. All the while the half-broken washing machine in the building’s basement was running he kept thinking about how he would find the man again and who he could ask for help about his car.</p>
<p class="western">Seeing Deidara’s bright blond head of hair come up the street had been merely a coincidence and this was how he hurried downstairs to face him.</p>
<p class="western">“Thanks, I didn’t know,” he replied dryly. No point in concealing that he was pissed off.</p>
<p class="western">Deidara pressed his lips together, concern flickering over his face briefly but then returning to annoyance. “Haven’t heard from you since you left. I thought I told you to message me when you get home.”</p>
<p class="western">“Phone broke.”</p>
<p class="western">“Yeah sure.”</p>
<p class="western">To prove it Hidan pulled the remains from the back pocket of his new dry pair of jeans and shoved it into Deidara’s face.</p>
<p class="western">“Shit, how did you do that?”</p>
<p class="western">“Doesn’t matter.” It wasn’t like he could just tell Deidara the truth without revealing what he tried so hard to keep secret. “Why are you here?”</p>
<p class="western">“Uh, Sas called me. We’re supposed to meet someone at the Rinnegan in” He checked his phone. “fifteen minutes. Just because you made me walk all the way here again.”</p>
<p class="western">Hidan gritted his teeth. He had finally been dry again and now he was about to head back out and through rain again. “Prepare to walk some more. Damn car’s broken too.”</p>
<p class="western">“You can’t be serious.” Deidara groaned. “How the fuck did you do that?”</p>
<p class="western">“Bad luck. When one thing fucking breaks, all things fucking break, you know, just because the universe hates you. Come on, if we hurry, we can make it in thirty.”</p>
<p class="western"><br/>
<br/>
</p>
<p class="western">Walking through the rain made him realise the same thing he had noted in the morning already. It was that life sucked. It just seemed like it really did hate him personally. Once something went wrong, everything went wrong. Yahiko died, and with that one of the forces keeping the city stable was gone. Hidan died and life hated him so much that he died twice in a single day and in only one instance he had actually chosen it. His body was drained with the effort it took to revive and heal itself and without Deidara’s complaining about being late he would have allowed himself to grab a bite at whatever fast food place they came across first.</p>
<p class="western">With the constant rain over Amegakure it was only minutes until he was fully drenched again. With the hurry he had been in he barely even had had time to get dressed properly and the heavy rain soon made the loose shirt that he had once cut the sleeves off from entirely obsolete, making it cling tightly to him. Not that a jacket would have actually protected him better. Ame’s rain was merciless and Hidan almost wanted to give the city a prize for naming itself so accurately.</p>
<p class="western">“I thought you’d be fine heading back,” Deidara said pulling the hood of his rain coat deeper over his face as though to show off that <em>yes</em>, he actually was wearing a rain coat, “But if I had known you overdosed I’d have offered you to stay, you know.”</p>
<p class="western">Hidan let out an annoyed sigh. “Had worse.”</p>
<p class="western">Deidara rolled his eyes. “Oh trust me I know. I was there when you had your worst, remember.”</p>
<p class="western">Hidan remembered nothing about that time, only what he had been told about it later. “I don’t.” He wrapped an arm around Deidara’s shoulders – covered by a film of rain – and leaned over to plant a kiss on his head. “You know, Dei, this is touching and all, but I’m fine. Really, I am. I’m just pissed, okay? Nothing to do with you.”</p>
<p class="western">“Okay?”</p>
<p class="western">“Did Sasori say who exactly we’re going to meet?”</p>
<p class="western">Deidara looked at him perplexed but the understanding that he shouldn’t press the issue any further came soon after. “Not really, no. I guess we’ll see. That’s why we also shouldn’t be too late.”</p>
<p class="western">Deidara’s phone told them 11.37am when they rounded the corner into the street of the hotel, only about fifteen minutes later than planned. Both of them were breathless from hurrying, Deidara especially. At the side of the street Hidan noticed Kisame’s car. Whoever they were supposed to meet, Kisame would know them too then.</p>
<p class="western">The reception desk was vacant when they entered the lobby, the girl probably dealing with paperwork in a backroom. The hall was mostly empty except for some stray guests looking at flyers and some of the paintings on the walls. Kisame stood in one corner leaning against a fake marble pillar next to a row of arm chairs. Noticing Hidan and Deidara he waved them over with a cheery smile.</p>
<p class="western">Hidan didn’t mind Kisame but sometimes he found it irritating how friendly the man could be. The uncomfortable kind of friendly that creeped him out more often than not no matter how many times he reminded himself that Kisame was as genuine as they came. Now he was already pissed and Kisame’s broad smile, like the sun was shining out of his ass, did nothing but make him even more pissed.</p>
<p class="western">“This rain never fucking stops,” he vented wrapping his arms around himself to collect some leftover warmth as he and Deidara came closer, “The fuck do you want?”</p>
<p class="western">Kisame’s expression softened. “Ate something wrong?”</p>
<p class="western">“Bad trip,” Deidara chimed in apologetically shrugging his jacket off and handing it over to Hidan.</p>
<p class="western">“Oh, I understand.” Kisame’s brows drew together in concern. Couldn’t he just mind his own business?</p>
<p class="western">“My car’s fucking broken and you just made us walk across the fucking city. So shark face, why the fuck are we here?” At least he was out of the rain again for a while and Deidara’s jacket still held some leftover warmth even though it was too small for him and he could only wrapped it around his shoulders. Maybe this whole ordeal would get his mind of the bastard he wanted to find and he could eventually ask Kisame to help with the car.</p>
<p class="western">“Oh right,” Kisame smiled, “We have a new guy. Konan wants you to take care of him, show him how things work and all that.”</p>
<p class="western">Deidara dramatically threw his arms into the air. “Ugh, can’t you do that?”</p>
<p class="western">“I have work in twenty minutes.”</p>
<p class="western">Deidara crossed his arms. “Sure, fucking ‘Tachi must be hard work.”</p>
<p class="western">“And where is he?” Hidan asked before Kisame had the time to feel offended.</p>
<p class="western">“Smoking area,” Kisame replied, “I’ll go get him.”</p>
<p class="western">Deidara flopped down on one of the arm chairs as they watched him leave for the back part of the dining hall. He let out a long sigh. “I wanted to meet up with Sas today.”</p>
<p class="western">“Sucks to be you then. I don’t wanna take care of a newbie alone. Spare me the puppy eyes.” For the time being he just wanted to enjoy being somewhere dry and warm.</p>
<p class="western">Kisame returned only a minute later, his giant form followed by one that was only slightly less giant. The man had quite a similar build, big and clearly muscled underneath his clothes, dark skin and dark hair he kept tied up at the back of his head. His face made him out to be in his late thirties and seemed to be stuck in a constant frown, eyes tired and a prominent gauze covered a side of his face.</p>
<p class="western">Hidan froze where he was standing, fingers digging into his arms where he had them crossed across his chest and jaw tightening immediately.</p>
<p class="western">So did the man, perplexed, eyes wide with recognition and staring at Hidan, and they could hold an entire conversation through just staring.</p>
<p class="western"><em>What the fuck are you doing here?</em>, Hidan blinked.</p>
<p class="western"><em>Why aren’t you dead?</em>, the man blinked back.</p>
<p class="western">Kisame between them was blissfully unaware of what was going on. “This is Kakuzu Hoku, great guy really. I’ll leave him in your care, then. See you later.”</p>
<p class="western">“Yeah, see you,” Hidan replied but didn’t take his eyes off the man in question.</p>
<p class="western">Deidara only waved Kisame goodbye and went back to lounging in the arm chair as though it was the most comfortable thing in the world. Maybe it was. Hidan wasn’t about to sit down any time soon and find out. He simply stood there, glued to the ground.</p>
<p class="western"><em>So what are you going to do?</em>, Kakuzu’s blink seemed to say.</p>
<p class="western"><em>This is a public space, not like we can just start fighting.</em>, Hidan blinked back.</p>
<p class="western">“I changed my mind, Dei. I’ll take care of this. You go and find Sasori, okay?” He didn’t wait for an answer and instead tore himself from where he was stuck to the floor grabbing Kakuzu by the arm and dragging him out of the hotel. Deidara’s confused shouts of his name went ignored and he didn’t come after them either.</p>
<p class="western">Just when the rain hit his face again Kakuzu tore himself from Hidan’s grip and the sudden loss of a counterweight almost made Hidan stumble. The street was empty save for a few cars passing by, no pedestrians. So he just lunged toward the other man again and a pushing and shoving started that Hidan directed into an alleyway by the hotel where the staff would come and go. Not in the middle of the day, though. No one was here, the entire alleyway was deserted and they were out of view from any unwanted onlookers.</p>
<p class="western">“The fuck are you doing here?”</p>
<p class="western">“How are you still alive?”</p>
<p class="western">“I asked first, asshole!” Hidan used an opening to throw a punch at the other man. He missed and immediately after hard knuckles collided with his face so that blood sprayed from his nose. He licked it up from his upper lip and went for another hit again. His fist met a hard chest and the force of it only earned him a pained huff. He went for it again, leaned into the punch with his entire body weight – and missed again.</p>
<p class="western">Kakuzu grabbed his wrist, kicked him hard in the back of his knee and sent Hidan face first to the ground. If the punch to his face hadn’t broken his nose already, the landing certainly would have. An ugly crunch rattled his skull and everything became black for a second, then his vision returned blurry.</p>
<p class="western">Frenzied he tried to get up but just struggle onto his back when an arm across his throat kept him down and stopped him from taking the deep breath he needed, and another pinned one of his wrists down over his head. He stared up at Kakuzu straddling him, keeping him down with his body weight and staying there no matter how hard Hidan thrashed against him.</p>
<p class="western">“I’m not asking you again: how the hell are you alive?” Kakuzu snarled, fury in his eyes. The struggling had made the stitched up cut prominent on his cheek start bleeding again, drops falling down and quickly soaking into Hidan’s already soaked shirt.</p>
<p class="western">Hidan licked some more blood from his upper lip, free hand reaching for the pocket knife in his jeans, flipping it open and holding it up to Kakuzu’s throat. “I asked first,” he repeated breathlessly, “The fuck are you doing here, fucker?”</p>
<p class="western">Kakuzu only glanced down at the knife at his throat with mild interest. Within the blink of an eye he had Hidan’s wrist in his grip so tightly that he had to let go of the knife and then he felt the cool metal pressed against his own throat, not enough that it would break skin but the promise of that happening hung over them even heavier than the rain. “Knives don’t scare me, brat.”</p>
<p class="western">“So what now? You gonna kill me? Again?” He raised a brow mockingly.</p>
<p class="western">“I should.”</p>
<p class="western">“Here?” Hidan glanced around. Sheltered from view or not, the hotel was still right next to them. “What has you so convinced I’ll stay dead this time?”</p>
<p class="western">“You were lucky.”</p>
<p class="western">“Yeah? Doesn’t seem like that to me.” His nose ached like hell whenever he spoke but at least the bleeding stopped. Then the arm on his throat moved and the next second fingers dug into his face and roughly turned his head to the side.</p>
<p class="western">“No wound,” Kakuzu mumbled to himself, “How is that possible?”</p>
<p class="western">"Wouldn’t you like to know?" Hidan hissed through his teeth, the taste of his own blood in his mouth and throat. He forcefully turned his head back and pushed up, crashing his forehead against Kakuzu’s forehead, the impact ringing through his head. The grip on him loosened enough that he could slip out from under him and tackle him down. With the knife still in his hand Kakuzu slashed at him but Hidan caught the blade in his palm teeth gritted together against the pain. He ripped it from his hand, threw it aside and faintly heard it clattering over the concrete before leaning down to push his arm against Kakuzu’s throat, choking him enough to make him lose his strength to struggle. "Give me one good reason not to really fuck you up right now."</p>
<p class="western">It didn’t work. Kakuzu clenched his fist and struck him hard against the jaw almost making him see stars and making his nosebleed worse. Kakuzu struggled against him, pushing his weight up against him to wrestle him off. Unsuccessfully but with decidedly much more strength than he should have. "You can’t."</p>
<p class="western">Hidan pressed down harder and it earned him a knee kicking into his ribs. "Oh really?"</p>
<p class="western">Kakuzu grabbed his wrist with both hands and with a last surge of power pushed him off. Hidan’s back hit the ground before he could process it and then Kakuzu was back on top of him, hand pressing down on his throat in a mocking imitation of their previous arrangement.</p>
<p class="western">"I already killed you once."</p>
<p class="western">Hidan scratched his finger nails over Kakuzu’s arms, thrashed against him but this time he was helpless and felt the colour drain from his face as he tried to gasp for air. "Gonna do it again?" he pressed out.</p>
<p class="western">"Believe me, I’d like to." Blood dripped from the cut on his face past the stitches and down on Hidan’s face. It was in his eyes: he would like to do it but something held him back. "I bet I would just have to bury you where no one could find you to get rid of you. But that would put me in a difficult spot."</p>
<p class="western">The edges of Hidan’s vision slowly faded into black. The scratching of his nails turned desperate and soon he was holding on to Kakuzu’s wrists trying to pull his hands off. He barely registered what he was even saying.</p>
<p class="western">"So if you keep your mouth shut, I’ll keep mine shut too."</p>
<p class="western">"What?"</p>
<p class="western">"You know what I did and I can’t get rid of you. It’d be suspicious if I were the last person you were seen with, wouldn’t it? I don’t know much about you but judging from your reaction earlier you don’t want this… this thing you have going on to be found out either. And wouldn’t it be strange if you were the last person I was seen with?"</p>
<p class="western">It took a while to process it all. His lungs burned and he coughed weakly against the tightness around his throat. The small part of him that was still halfway functioning, too used to the fear that came with falling unconscious, mulled it over. If they both kept the other’s secret for themselves there was no danger. He tried nodding even though he couldn’t even tell if he was actually moving.</p>
<p class="western">It seemed to be because Kakuzu loosened his grip tentatively and Hidan immediately rolled to his side and gasped in big gulps of air. Lightheaded he had to blink spots from his eyes and in front of him the rain pattered into small puddles where the ground was uneven. His own distorted reflection stared back at him. Nose broken, mouth and chin bloody.</p>
<p class="western">So much for paying back the bastard that killed him. He just had to be reasonable.</p>
<p class="western">"We keep our mouths shut?" he rasped.</p>
<p class="western">"We keep our mouths shut. Not a word to anyone."</p>
<p class="western">Hidan let himself slump back onto his back, rain hitting his face and his cut hand still aching, and huffed out a breathless laugh. "Konan’d probably kill you on the spot if she knew. ‘D’ve loved to see that."</p>
<p class="western">"Too bad. I wonder what she’d do if she knew one of her underlings apparently can’t die."</p>
<p class="western">"Okay, okay, you got me." The soreness in his throat slowly healed, did so faster than the rest of him. His nose clotted shut so that he had to breathe through his mouth and feel every breath. "Keeping us out of trouble, got it, got it."</p>
<p class="western">Kakuzu stood up first grimacing at how soaked his clothes were now, so much more than necessary. He picked up the knife from somewhere, flicked it shut and tossed it to Hidan who didn’t even try to catch it and let it land on his chest. He raised a brow at Kakuzu. What an odd sign of trust. He really wasn’t scared of knives then.</p>
<p class="western">"Hey, you have a car, right? Let’s talk on the way."</p>
<p class="western"><br/>
<br/>
</p>
<p class="western">***</p>
<p class="western"><br/>
<br/>
</p>
<p class="western">His car was parked further down the street. It was an old thing, a cheap buy. It wasn’t like he would have had a lot of money fresh out of prison. Without waiting for an invitation the albino dropped himself into the passenger’s seat ignoring the annoyed sigh Kakuzu let out at the way his drenched clothes soaked the seats as well. Cars in Ame just had to deal with that but there was still blood dripping from his hand, staining his clothes and coming dangerously close to the seat covers. At least he had the decency to wring out his jacket before wrapping it around his hand.</p>
<p class="western">The motor stuttered alive with an ugly cough.</p>
<p class="western">“You might wanna get the exhaust checked,” Hidan commented wiping at his nose with his good hand.</p>
<p class="western">“Where are we going?”</p>
<p class="western">As though to annoy him some more the brat put his feet up on the dashboard. “<em>Someone</em> killed me and left my car behind. Battery’s dead, and you’re gonna help me jumpstart it again.” He shot him a smug grin. “You owe me that after everything.” And whether he meant the killing or only the punching him didn’t matter.</p>
<p class="western">“How did you get back?”</p>
<p class="western">“I grew wings and started flying. I walked, what the fuck do you think? Wasn’t fun.”</p>
<p class="western">Kakuzu pulled onto one of the main streets of this part of the city, all while telling himself that this wasn’t blind compliance. Of course, it would be suspicious if the albino would go missing right after last being seen with him. It would be just as dangerous to simply let him walk off and tell Konan about what Kakuzu did. All that made it all the stranger that they just sat in a car together, the albino staring out the window and watching the houses pass by, all his previous ire having dissipated.</p>
<p class="western">“What’s your name?” It occurred to Kakuzu that Kisame hadn’t introduced them.</p>
<p class="western">“Hidan.”</p>
<p class="western">“Last name?”</p>
<p class="western">“Don’t have one.”</p>
<p class="western">“Everyone has one.”</p>
<p class="western">“There’s one on my ID, on papers and all. I don’t use it, no one does, so there’s no need for you to know, got it?”</p>
<p class="western">He didn’t understand it but also didn’t want to press the issue further. “So how come you’re alive.”</p>
<p class="western">“None of your business either.”</p>
<p class="western">To his own surprise Kakuzu found himself calmer than he probably should be considering he was having a conversation with a man he had personally killed. Smashed his head and threw him down a tearing waterfall. It was surreal, like he had simply dreamt all of it. Hidan was right there, very much alive.</p>
<p class="western">Hidan redirected his attention from the pavement to Kakuzu. “Aren’t you agreeable all of a sudden,” he muttered.</p>
<p class="western">“I killed you.” It certainly wasn’t something easy to forgive. Hidan had every right to be angry if Kakuzu was being honest, so it was all the more surprising how calm Hidan himself seemed to be now.</p>
<p class="western">“I’d have killed myself anyway if you hadn’t been there. Just breaking my skull was… unnecessary. And leaving my car like that, making me walk. Know what, ‘cuz you’re apparently part of the gang now we’re gonna be spending lots of time together so I have more than enough time to get back at you for all that.”</p>
<p class="western">He was part of the Akatsuki now. They would have to work together whether they wanted to or not, and Hidan’s presence would be just another reminder how careful he would have to be. One wrong word and he could ruin everything for himself. For the time lying low would be the smartest solution, not drawing any attention onto himself, not incriminating himself with Yahiko’s murder. But he couldn’t quite trust Hidan yet.</p>
<p class="western">“You won’t tell on me?”</p>
<p class="western">Hidan raised a brow. “I won’t.”</p>
<p class="western">“Why? The Akatsuki have a reputation of being a close-knit group. Won’t you be betraying them by withholding information?”</p>
<p class="western">Hidan leaned back into one arm behind his head, the hurt one wrapped in the jacket still in his lap. “I don’t give a fuck about them. I have things I want to do and that’s why I joined. For all I care Yahiko was some idealistic asshole.”</p>
<p class="western">A snort almost escaped Kakuzu but he held it back. It would make the cut in his face hurt. Reaching up to touch it his fingers came away red but the blood had started clotting again.</p>
<p class="western">They left the city behind and soon enough the road disappeared into the forest. For a while it would be nothing but driving straight, trees grown together thickly passing by and darkening the sky even more. He tried to stay focused on the unchanging road but his eyes drifted towards Hidan again and again. That’s how he witnessed the quiet crack when the albino’s broken nose put itself back into its original state, and he watched as he poked and scratched at the dried, flaky blood above his lip. His wet hair stuck to the back of his neck, making the silver appear whiter, and his soaked shirt clung to his body to tightly it became obsolete. During their fight he had barely noticed but Hidan had the tattoo of a grim reaper on the left side of his back, shaded with a grinning skull for a face and holding a scythe, the blade curving from his shoulder and across his upper arm. When Kakuzu had picked him up to throw him into the waterfall he had felt hard, lean muscles. He was definitely build for dexterity more than brute strength but judging by the way he had punched him before he wasn’t lacking it either. The skin around the cut and stitches still ached from it.</p>
<p class="western">Hidan pointed at them. “Yahiko gave you that, huh?”</p>
<p class="western">“Mhm.”</p>
<p class="western">Hidan grinned and leaned forward. “I never got to fight him. Was he good?”</p>
<p class="western">“Certainly put up a struggle.”</p>
<p class="western">“I can imagine. Not everyone likes having his head smash in. Looked really ugly.”</p>
<p class="western">“You saw?”</p>
<p class="western">Hidan nodded. “I found him, me ‘n Dei. Part of our work.”</p>
<p class="western">“Ah.”</p>
<p class="western">“You took all his money too.” An expression of understanding flickered across Hidan’s face and was quickly replaced by his grin again. “So you’re in it for the money and you hope nobody will ever find out that you killed him. That’s fucking crazy, you’re fucking crazy.”</p>
<p class="western">“It’s risky,” Kakuzu agreed.</p>
<p class="western">“We keep our mouths shut and everything will be fine for both of us, aye?”</p>
<p class="western">“Sure.”</p>
<p class="western">For a few kilometres the drive went by quietly, except now Hidan kept staring intently at him, grin still in place but words visibly burning on his tongue. So he was one of the sort that couldn’t stand the silence for too long.</p>
<p class="western">“You’re staring.”</p>
<p class="western">“What kinda story did you tell Konan that she took you in?”</p>
<p class="western">“The truth,” Kakuzu answered.</p>
<p class="western">“Conveniently leaving out the details,” Hidan said in understanding.</p>
<p class="western">Kakuzu raised a brow at him. “Speaking from experience.”</p>
<p class="western">“So you told her you went to jail?” Hidan prodded, “You can tell me. Tell me what you told her. I’m supposed to show you around and all that. Let’s talk some business.”</p>
<p class="western">“Will you stop staring then?”</p>
<p class="western">“Sure.”</p>
<p class="western">Kakuzu took another moment to collect himself. The albino brat was infuriating, smug in how he knew now that he could do anything without a fear of consequences as long as they were in a car. But then again Kakuzu doubted that a car crash would kill him either. Giving in was the easiest thing to do even if it hurt his pride.</p>
<p class="western">“Used to work as an accountant. Went to prison for fraud and threads of violence. I got out again a few months ago but any reputation I had was ruined and I need work. Work and protection.”</p>
<p class="western">“From who?”</p>
<p class="western">“From who do you not need protection?”</p>
<p class="western">Hidan shrugged and true to their deal he turned away to look out the window watching fir trees pass by. After only few moments his shoulders started shaking with laughter bubbling up. Kakuzu believed to know why. The idea of trying to gain protection by the very gang you killed the leader of didn’t only seem absurd, it <em>was</em> absurd. Absurd enough that it just might work.</p>
<p class="western">Hidan seemed to decide not to mention that. “So you probably know Kisame from your time in prison?” he asked instead.</p>
<p class="western">Kakuzu nodded.</p>
<p class="western">“Was he always as annoying as he is?”</p>
<p class="western">“Annoyingly kind-hearted, yes.”</p>
<p class="western">The laughter burst out of Hidan and quieted as quickly as it came. “Okay, okay, I said we’d talk business, so here goes the first thing: you gotta tolerate that. It’s beyond annoying but he’s fucking a cop and we all wanna keep a clean slate and lie low. They’re the ones keeping us safe. They’re the reason we haven’t been arrested yet.”</p>
<p class="western">“The Akatsuki bought the police.”</p>
<p class="western">“Part of it. Some of them belong to this hyper-dutiful sort. No way to bribe them. But ‘Tachi’s got his people and whatever he does he does well.”</p>
<p class="western">“What about the Hebi? Aren’t they trying to buy police too?”</p>
<p class="western">“Oh, they are. Okay, so: we have our kitchens and the Hebi have their kitchens. Ours are great and we have great prices for great stuff and people know that. Most of the city belongs to the Akatsuki no doubt. And what doesn’t the Hebi try to claim and they’re… well, they’re snakes. Small core group but it’s what makes them effective. Good stuff too, but they want what everyone wants.”</p>
<p class="western">“And what is that?”</p>
<p class="western">“The city. All of it. It’s in the news too. You know the shootings, the drug smuggling and all that. That’s where Itachi comes in again: he does his magic and keeps our names and faces out of it. So we can do our work in peace.”</p>
<p class="western">Kakuzu listened carefully. Even thought most of it was information he mostly already knew it was a different thing to hear it from someone who was involved. It was an entirely different thing to soon be involved in it as well. The surreality of the day wouldn’t come to an end anytime soon.</p>
<p class="western">“What is our work?” Hidan asked into the room of the car. “We’re doing the dirty work. We’re doing the robberies. When someone needs to get knifed, we’re doing that. Cleaning up too, sometimes. Anything the boss wants.”</p>
<p class="western">“What about the drugs?”</p>
<p class="western">“Not doing that. The smuggling maybe. But not the dealing. Can’t have the dealers have murder charges.”</p>
<p class="western">Finally they reached the riverside and followed the road for a while until the waterfall and the exit for the viewing platform came into view.</p>
<p class="western">“You know one good thing really is the whole close-knit group stuff. Somebody looks at you wrong and you’ll have a dozen people behind you immediately. - Oh good, it’s still there.”</p>
<p class="western">Hidan’s car still stood where Kakuzu had left it. Unmoved for not even a centimetre. Only the headlights were turned off now. Just by the looks of it Kakuzu assumed it was an even older car than the one he had. He parked right in front of it with just enough space between the hoods that a person could comfortably move between them.</p>
<p class="western">He hadn’t even shut off the motor yet when Hidan already jumped from his seat and opened the car door.</p>
<p class="western">"What about your hand?"</p>
<p class="western">Hidan unwrapped it from the jacket and smirking at Kakuzu wiggled his fingers. Dried blood still stuck to his skin but the cut was closed only a faint line of it left, almost as though it had already healed months ago.</p>
<p class="western">"How-" But between the events of the past night and morning there was no sense in asking anymore. <em>Just accept it</em>, he told himself. Dwelling on it wouldn’t help anything.</p>
<p class="western">Hidan set out into the rain. Thankfully for their situation it had faded into a soft drizzle. The forest smelled strongly of it, of fir needles and leaves and earth.</p>
<p class="western">Nature felt more like home than any city ever could.</p>
<p class="western">Kakuzu watched out for the spot where he had made his fire but found no trace of it left. He had been thorough in everything he had done after he had gotten out of prison and after already getting his face mutilated he wouldn’t allow himself to make another mistake. He hadn’t expected Hidan to survive, though. It was an unforeseen error in all in plans and their fragile deal would be the one thing he barely had any power over. He had to rely solely on the other man now and he didn’t like the thought of that in the slightest.</p>
<p class="western">So he kept an eye on him, watching him unlock his car and open the trunk to pull out jumper cables. “Open that!” He indicated the hoods with one hand and Kakuzu opened his car’s, then Hidan’s. With an air of exactly knowing what he was doing Hidan attached the cables to the batteries, checking if the clips sat safely enough and seeming content when they did.</p>
<p class="western">“Turn the motor on for two minutes.”</p>
<p class="western">Kakuzu did that, the engine once again sputtering to life like it took all its combined strength to even cause a single spark. He had wanted to get it repaired somehow but hadn’t found the time yet, always between work, sleep and executing the plan he had come up with during the last few months. Hidan slipped into the passenger’s seat once more to get out of the rain.</p>
<p class="western">“Sounds fucking pathetic. You want me to check that later?”</p>
<p class="western">“Why would I let you do that?”</p>
<p class="western">Hidan leaned back against the closed car door, first an expression of offence on his face that then faded into something neutral when he glanced at the glove compartment. Without even asking he opened it and his eyes lit up in delight when he found the cigarette pack that Kakuzu only very rarely smoked from. “I <em>am</em> a learnt mechanic.”</p>
<p class="western">Kakuzu watched him light a cigarette, breathe in a lung full and blow it out the open car window. The cold of the rain and the warmth of the inside of the car had made his cheeks and nose red, noticeable even more due to his already pale skin. Skin that had the paleness of death not even half a day earlier.</p>
<p class="western">Hidan caught his gaze and stared back just as hard. “You look like you’ve got something burning on your tongue.”</p>
<p class="western">“You could say that.”</p>
<p class="western">“You can ask stuff, you know?” Hidan leaned back, cigarette between his fingers, and blew the smoke in his direction this time. It stung against the cut on his cheek. “As long as it’s not about… the not dying thing.”</p>
<p class="western">Truth be told, Kakuzu was brimming with questions and it took effort to conjure up the part of himself that stayed distant from everything. The part of himself that protected him from getting involved in trouble. The first time he had let that part be broken down it had gotten him fifteen years behind bars, but breaking them down had at least taken months. And here was Hidan almost having broken them so easily and apparently being completely unaware of it.</p>
<p class="western">Outside the waterfall crashed down onto rounded rocks, the flow of water thundering above the rain and mixing with the sound of the motor. With what little sunlight daytime over Amegakure offered a mist lay over the river, the colour of Hidan’s hair.</p>
<p class="western">“You came here to… off yourself, as you put it.”</p>
<p class="western">Hidan nodded.</p>
<p class="western">“But you can’t die.”</p>
<p class="western">He snorted a half-laugh and the initial glee from finding the cigarette pack lost its shine. “Yeah, I can see what that’d confuse you.”</p>
<p class="western">“Is it an adrenaline thing?”</p>
<p class="western">“Something like that but… not really.” He was no longer looking at Kakuzu. “It’s complicated.”</p>
<p class="western">“I see.”</p>
<p class="western">“Do you?”</p>
<p class="western">Kakuzu barely swallowed down the frustrated sigh rising in his throat. Mirroring Hidan he crossed his arms and leaned back into the corner between seat and car door. Hidan took the last drag and kept the smoke in his lungs throwing the cigarette stump out the window into the gravel. “I know your kind,” Kakuzu said, “You want to be known but at the same time you’re afraid of it.”</p>
<p class="western">Hidan let out another laugh. Kakuzu knew that kind of laugh as well. The kind that was meant to cover up something else. “I thought the Akatsuki hired henchmen not fucking philosophers.” He sat up and made to exit the car. A glance to the car’s watch claimed that more than two minutes were up. “Okay, let’s see.”</p>
<p class="western">Through the curtain of rain Kakuzu kept watching as Hidan got into his own car. He found himself watching him quite a lot in the short time they knew each other. It was something about him that was meant to be watched, the casual way he moved in juxtaposition with whatever it was that he kept secret for no one to know. He was a walking contradiction and it made him fascinating to watch.</p>
<p class="western">The motor of the smaller car slowly came to life, coughing and protesting but eventually droning like it was supposed to. Hidan pumped his fist exclaiming something wordless and a broad grin reappearing on his face. Something very different from the man who came to this place to die.</p>
<p class="western">Hidan got up once again to collect the jumper cables and shut both hoods of their cars, still grinning when he walked up to the open window on Kakuzu’s passenger side. “Thanks, man. So here’s what we’ll do. You follow me and I’ll introduce you, sound good?”</p>
<p class="western">He only waited for Kakuzu to nod and promptly returned to his own car to take the lead.</p>
<p class="western">The drive back to the city went by monotonously, the road mostly empty, the sky as grey as ever and the way familiar by now. More than enough to time to mull over everything that happened.</p>
<p class="western">The whole thing was one big risk and Kakuzu was more than aware of how ridiculously lucky he would have to be. It seemed to work out however. They had each other in their grip, information ensuring that they would stay in line. Kakuzu wouldn’t go as far as trust Hidan but a man trying to die had nothing to lie for.</p>
<p class="western"><br/>
<br/>
</p>
<p class="western">***</p>
<p class="western"><br/>
<br/>
</p>
<p class="western">While the hotel served as a place for henchmen to meet the leader, the Akatsuki’s true headquarters weren’t confined to it. They had places all over their part of the city. One of them currently in use was a warehouse of the smaller kind, wedged in between a row of others that looked just like it on the outskirts of the city in an abandoned industrial area. Some of the former workers even had forgotten some of their cars here making it even more inconspicuous to park one’s own rundown car between them.</p>
<p class="western">Kakuzu had stayed behind him all the way but not once had he responded to Hidan waving into his rear view mirror. Buzzkill.</p>
<p class="western">Looking around he found both Kisame and Sasori’s car parked not far from his own and closer to the gate Zetsu’s motorcycle.</p>
<p class="western">“Crew’s all there,” he told Kakuzu, “The important ones anyway.”</p>
<p class="western">The inside of the warehouse didn’t look like one anymore. Over time they had put up screens of milk glass as makeshift walls to imitate the outlines of individual rooms. There were no doors, only bead curtains – because Deidara liked the sound of them clicking against each other – or normal cloth curtains separating the rooms from one another and giving the semblance of privacy. Despite the width of the warehouse most of it was concentrated in one corner close to the entrance ever since someone brought a small space heater here. Hidan never got to know who brought it but he guessed it had been Kisame because out of the lot of them he was the one most sensitive to the cold. It was due to him they had posters of palm beaches and close-ups of any kind of sea critters hanging from the walls among copies of famous artworks (Sasori’s), even more abstract, much more colourful artwork (Deidara’s), harmless and boring shots of wide and open landscapes and peaceful animals, mostly birds and dogs (Itachi’s), and thoughtlessly cut out half-naked men and women in between (Hidan’s). It was a mess but it warmed the walls, made the place seem more like home than Hidan’s own crappy, too tiny apartment.</p>
<p class="western">He watched Kakuzu take it in looking as out of place as he probably felt. Hidan often prided himself on his ability to read people, calling it a necessary skill, and the impression Kakuzu had left on him was one of a man who didn’t like fitting in but disliked being out of place as well. He was in it for the money, he had learnt, for the security of it no doubt, and being out of place in a place filled with people who would most likely kill him if they got to know what Hidan knew visibly didn’t sit well with him. Even though he did a well-enough job of making himself appear calm, Hidan didn’t miss the way his eyes scanned every room and corridor they passed, jaw clenched and muscles tense where he had rolled up his sleeves, the ring tattoos around his wrists no longer a secret to keep but only unfamiliar to have exposed.</p>
<p class="western">“They’re okay people,” Hidan said and didn’t quite know why. Kakuzu wasn’t someone to need reassurance. He didn’t get an answer either.</p>
<p class="western">Nearing one of the bean curtains leading into what could maybe be called a living room the voices of the others became more audible, talking nonsense over each other. Hidan heard Deidara spout insults at Itachi before he even saw him. Kisame’s ever so gentle, deep voice rumbling in between trying to make Deidara quiet down.</p>
<p class="western">Attention shifted when Hidan broke through the bean curtain and waved Kakuzu through it behind him. New meat was a rare enough sight. It was there for a few days, maybe some weeks, and then it died. But Hidan had a feeling that Kakuzu would survive quite a long time.</p>
<p class="western">“About time!” Deidara shouted first thing jumping up from his spot in the corner of an old, worn out sofa that had more patches than original covering and pointing accusingly at Itachi. “He’s been talking shit.”</p>
<p class="western">Itachi sat across him on a smaller sofa in a similar state, only a wobbly coffee table between them. Hidan still had to find out how he did it but everything Itachi did he did with a strange kind of elegance. Even having his arms crossed and looking down his nose at Deidara with his half-frown he still had a graceful air around him that made everyone around him feel like he was something better than themselves. Being the only one with a police badge didn’t help his case. “I barely said two sentences to you before you started ranting.”</p>
<p class="western">“Vulgarly,” Kisame added standing between them and seeming a little lost but mostly relieved at the distraction their newcomer would provide.</p>
<p class="western">Deidara tsked.</p>
<p class="western">Hidan only shrugged. “Saying fuck won’t kill you, ‘Tachi.”</p>
<p class="western">“Not saying it wouldn’t kill you either.”</p>
<p class="western">This was when Kisame decided to jump in before whatever argument had been going on could start over. “Right, we have a new one today. Everyone, this is Kakuzu.”</p>
<p class="western">Which was something everyone already knew. Hidan walked over to Deidara, wrapping an arm around his neck and dragging him down with him back onto the sofa. It wasn’t soft, not even particularly comfortable but enough to lounge on for a while. “He’s alright,” he said, “Helped me fix my car.”</p>
<p class="western">Deidara removed himself from under his arm cursing under his breath. "You’re drenched. What happened to my jacket?"</p>
<p class="western">"Slipped in some mud. Gonna give it back to you after I washed it." White lies. Something Deidara didn’t need to know. His jacket was lying in the back of Hidan’s car, all bunched up to conceal the blood stains. They would be a bitch to wash out.</p>
<p class="western">Deidara returned to his own corner of the sofa where his sketchbook lay on the table. If he had it lying around like this Sasori wasn’t far either, and as though he was summoned by being thought about Sasori entered through the bead curtain, utterly dwarfed standing next to Kakuzu. Not even taking note of the other man he took a seat next to Deidara, stretching one leg. His prosthesis, barely noticeable if you didn’t know it was there. Even when walking he barely limped unless the weather was really bad.</p>
<p class="western">Just when Deidara and Sasori dove into their own world of art, discussing some of Deidara’s sketches, Itachi’s expression softened and running a hand through his hair he actually stood up to greet Kakuzu and shake hands with him. Even though he was a year younger than Hidan he had always made sure to act the most mature. “Kisame told me about you,” he said amicably, “My name’s Itachi Uchiha. Itachi is fine.”</p>
<p class="western">Kakuzu only looked at him, glancing down at the extended hand and back up. “I don’t shake hands with police.”</p>
<p class="western">Hidan snorted. “Yeah, tell ‘im!”</p>
<p class="western">"I like him. We keep him," Deidara agreed.</p>
<p class="western">“I’m the reason you never had to see the inside of a cell,” Itachi reminded them sharply and let his hand drop to his side, “So let’s just keep it that way and continue to work together.”</p>
<p class="western">Kakuzu moved to the other side of the room to where he was closest to the space heater to let himself and his clothes dry in the warmer air. Hidan kept his eyes on him. No suspicion by anyone.</p>
<p class="western">Itachi returned to his previous spot and Kisame followed suit mumbling something about how he wished they would all just get along.</p>
<p class="western">With no phone to distract himself with Hidan leaned his chin on his palm and watched dust dance in the warm air. “Found anything at the scene?” he asked into the room but it was mainly directed at Itachi but he also had to suppress a grin at the jump in Kakuzu’s shoulder, going unnoticed by anyone but him.</p>
<p class="western">“Nothing that I assume you don’t already know.” Itachi sighed and went back to crossing his arms, this time to close his jacket over his chest for warmth. “Got his head smashed in at the corner of the table, pretty clear case. The how isn’t the problem. The problem is who did it and why?”</p>
<p class="western">“I thought the Hebi,” Deidara said.</p>
<p class="western">Itachi shrugged. “Not like we can just put out search warrants without any clue as to who it might have been.”</p>
<p class="western">“They have a motive,” Hidan offered, “Get rid of Yahiko, destabilise their enemies, take over the city.”</p>
<p class="western">Kisame draped his arm over the back of the sofa, behind Itachi’s back. “They haven’t made a move yet. Absolutely nothing.”</p>
<p class="western">“I can’t believe this,” Itachi said, a note of exasperation in his otherwise even voice, “God, I still can’t decide if killing Yahiko was incredibly stupid or genius of them.”</p>
<p class="western">Hidan exchanged a glance with Kakuzu who held it with the determination of a man who wouldn’t once more lose to a staring match, arms crossed and clothes drying around his body. “What do you suspect they’ll do?” he asked only to have said something but Hidan noticed his tone, the tone of someone who knew the answer to his own question.</p>
<p class="western"><em>You want to be known but at the same time you are also afraid of it</em>, rang through his head and Hidan didn’t like the echo of it.</p>
<p class="western">“They’ll make their moves while we still try to reorganise ourselves,” Kisame said with Itachi nodding along, “Konan is doing her best to catch up with everything Yahiko handled but it will still take her a while to figure things out.”</p>
<p class="western">“The Nagato situation not to mention,” Sasori threw in and Itachi nodded at that as well.</p>
<p class="western">Hidan let it run through his head. It was a lot, figuring out everything Yahiko had been doing. No one ever really knew any details, not even Konan and now it was on her to decipher it all by herself. Hidan tried not to think too much about the ring on her finger. He didn’t want to carry that feeling of faint guilt around with him like it was rocks in his guts. Shooed it out of his head instead, swallowing it down.</p>
<p class="western">Itachi turned to Kakuzu. “How much do you know?”</p>
<p class="western">“Enough,” Kakuzu answered firmly, “The Akatsuki and the Hebi’s rivalry over the city, I know enough.”</p>
<p class="western">“The less we know the better, wouldn’t you say, ‘Tachi,” Hidan said, “Can’t snitch on anyone so easily that way. And for all I care I just need to know who I need to kill. Or find. Or whatever. Just let us do our jobs.”</p>
<p class="western">“You’ll get some soon enough,” Sasori said not looking up from where he scribbled something in red pen next to Deidara’s drawings with Deidara intently watching over his shoulder.</p>
<p class="western">“Good, keep us busy. Don’t want this to end up like summer two years ago.” Hidan crossed his arms behind his head.</p>
<p class="western">“What happened during summer two years ago?” Kakuzu sounded honestly confused.</p>
<p class="western">“Nothing,” Hidan answered, “It was the most boring summer ever. I’d rather have a gang war.”</p>
<p class="western">Itachi frowned deeply at him and Kisame too stared at him with a mixture of disappointment and concern. “You shouldn’t say that.”</p>
<p class="western">“Not everybody can be a morally upstanding cop pig,” Hidan bit at them, “Some of us live in a shithole and need money. A gang war means more jobs means more money.” The thought sparks a small theory in his brain about the reasons Kakuzu might have had when he killed Yahiko. Kill him, join a gang and earn money with the high amount of jobs you’d get. Protection from whoever you wanted included.</p>
<p class="western">To be truthful to himself, though, part of him also craved the fight of it all. He craved the feeling of burying blades in someone, the thrill of a fight that was more than a scuffle in some alleyway like the one he had with Kakuzu earlier. And he wanted to be allowed to kill his opponent.</p>
<p class="western">Deidara left Sasori with the sketchbook and scooted up close to his side as though sensing the unrest under Hidan’s skin. “Honestly, what’s the worst that could happen, Uchiha? Either we finally get rid of the Hebi or the Hebi finally get rid of us. What does it matter to the police?”</p>
<p class="western">“There are lives on the line,” Itachi said, “Innocent lives. People who have nothing to do with this and who are just trying to get by. The Hebi protect their people, you protect your people, and the citizens, that’s who the police protects.” He paused to take a breath and calm himself. “I’m sure you all have heard of the Senju murders.”</p>
<p class="western">Everyone nodded, with the exception of Sasori who answered with only a hum. He was notorious for already knowing things while others still explained them. Deidara had spoken about it once. About how Sasori apparently had always been a fast learner, quick at processing information and generally being oh so smart that it made him feel bored when he was around others. For Deidara it was something to admire. For Hidan it was something to find incredibly irritating.</p>
<p class="western">Itachi continued. “There’s unrest everywhere in the city. There’s rumours about the other mayor candidates having orchestrated something to get rid of them. Senju’s granddaughter even suspects someone from the council, without any hard evidence but speculations, and her grandmother is so shaken up she became mute. If the Hebi and Akatsuki rivalry wasn’t enough, we have to take care of the smaller things that come with that too, and let me tell you something: the trust in the police is as low as it has never been before and on top of that we’re severely understaffed. There’s discussions about rushing new recruits through their training.”</p>
<p class="western">“Fucking great,” Hidan sighed.</p>
<p class="western">“What I’m saying is,” Itachi went on, “that what happened with Yahiko and the Akatsuki is only a small scale projection of what happened to the city as well. Instability.”</p>
<p class="western">“Do we know the Hebi’s hideouts?” Kakuzu threw into the room, “To attack them while they think the Akatsuki are left disorganised.”</p>
<p class="western">Sasori sighed heavily. “I’ll run that by Konan.”</p>
<p class="western">In that moment Zetsu walked through the clicking bead curtain but as usual when he did something the noise was somehow quieter than it should be. Even his footsteps had been silent until his arrival. His vitiligo skin caught the shadows of the room in a strange way that always made his face look meaner than it was, resting in a soft, unreadable smile. In his hand he held a can with cold peas and baby carrots, in his other a fork. He scanned the room, the people in it – Hidan hated the feeling of his eyes on him, it always felt like being x-rayed – and settled close to a wall leaning there and continuing to eat.</p>
<p class="western">“Anything new?” Itachi asked impatiently. With Zetsu it wasn’t uncommon that one had to pull any information from him through precise questions. There had been instances before of Zetsu withholding information merely on the justification of “you didn’t ask”. The only one he had consistently told everything without prompting had been Yahiko. Something about him only accepting Yahiko as his boss who he was bound to tell anything at all.</p>
<p class="western">“It might interest you,” Zetsu prefaced between bites, his voice this odd kind of smooth that a voice only gets when you eat too much yoghurt. He let his gaze wander through the room once more, hovering over every single one of them – and once again Sasori was the only one who didn’t seem bothered by it. Hidan grimaced back at him and then Zetsu’s eyes stopped at Kakuzu. “I just heard that they found a suspect in the Yahiko case. You may want to check in with your collegues.”</p>
<p class="western">Hidan froze where he was sitting, not daring to glance at Kakuzu himself but then Zetsu turned to Itachi and kept up his weird little smile while Itachi began frantically digging for his phone in his pocket. Someone must have messaged him because he immediately started furiously typing. Shortly after he stood up, finger hovering over the bright green call button and left the room, bead curtain clicking closed behind him.</p>
<p class="western">Kisame looked after him, a little puzzled. Zetsu kept eating. Deidara rolled his eyes. And Hidan finally dared to meet Kakuzu’s eyes.</p>
<p class="western"><em>You’re one lucky bastard</em>, he tried to convey without grinning too much.</p>
<p class="western"><em>I guess I am</em>, Kakuzu agreed, expression something between disbelief and uncertainty.</p>
<p class="western">“Who’s the suspect?” Deidara asked Zetsu.</p>
<p class="western">“Member of the Hebi,” came the answer, non-committal, because Zetsu always seemed detached from whatever was happening. His purpose was to collect information and he did that dutifully enough to attach any real world meaning to it.</p>
<p class="western">Hidan sat up straight. “Since you’re here right now-”</p>
<p class="western">“No.”</p>
<p class="western">“I haven’t said anything yet.”</p>
<p class="western">“I don’t like you or your tone. No.”</p>
<p class="western">At times like this Hidan wondered why he didn’t just punch Zetsu. Just once couldn’t hurt. Smaller scuffles between members happened. God knew he wanted to. Badly. As the Akatsuki’s informant Zetsu thought highly of himself, a head worthy of being spared the frustrated punches of all the people he got into some kind of trouble by not saying anything. “Just give me a new phone, asshole!” He held up the remains of his old one.</p>
<p class="western">Zetsu grimaced at him and left the room for another where Hidan knew he kept spare phones for exact occurrences like this. He returned with a small silver one that reacted to Hidan’s touch a little later than it was supposed to but he guessed it was fine for the time being. Deidara got the new number first, then everyone else and Kisame would pass it on to Itachi.</p>
<p class="western">Itachi who returned with his hair in disarray from driving his hair through it repeatedly. He hurried to grab his jacket from the sofa’s armrest, phone still tugged between his ear and shoulder. “I’m on my way. Will be there in an hour,” he told whoever he was talking to before hanging up and turning to the others looking at him expectantly. “So they found a suspect, he was seen in the area when it happened. I told them to hold off the interrogation until I arrived. So…”</p>
<p class="western">Kisame got moving as well, collecting his belongings and jingling his car keys in his hand.</p>
<p class="western">“Keep us posted,” Sasori said as a goodbye while everyone else only raised their hand as for a curt wave. The only other exception, Hidan noticed, was Kakuzu, arms crossed and fingers digging tensely into the bulk of his biceps.</p>
<p class="western">Once Itachi and Kisame were both gone and the door of the warehouse closed with an echoing clang Deidara slumped back onto the sofa, stretching both arms over the backrest and groaned loudly. “Ugh, I hate him.”</p>
<p class="western">“I think that feeling’s mutual,” Sasori commented and earned himself a shove against his side, against the leg prothesis which didn’t bother him.</p>
<p class="western">Hidan stretched out as well, shooing Deidara from his spot so he had to relocate ending with his legs across Hidan’s lap and head resting on Sasori’s shoulder. “He can be a smug bastard,” Hidan agreed. It wasn’t like Itachi did in on purpose. Sometimes his mere presence was just overflowing enough, a stark reminder that he really was Hidan and Deidara’s age but had actually already achieved things in his life. He came from a renowned family, finished university with a perfect score and when his overwhelming sense of duty made him enter the police academy he aced that as well, quickly rising up in the ranks after. He was a living reminder that Deidara had dropped out of art school that he had struggled to even get in.</p>
<p class="western">Hidan tried not to dwell on it too much and turned his attention to someone else. First Zetsu but Zetsu opted to disappear from the room quietly and not return. Which left only one other person.</p>
<p class="western">Kakuzu was still standing near the space heater, unshakable stance like a boulder, and glanced around the room probably seeing details Hidan wasn’t aware of anymore. Like the out-of-place flower pattern of some of the sofa’s patches, the row of worn, too soft purses, and the smoke stains on the ceiling. Walking in he had probably already seen Zetsu’s small greenhouse with Cannabis plants as well.</p>
<p class="western">“Sit down, will ya?” Kakuzu flinched at the sound of the words making Hidan flinch as well.</p>
<p class="western">“I prefer to keep standing.”</p>
<p class="western">Sasori closed Deidara’s sketch book with a heavy sigh. “If you have nothing better to do, Hidan, why don’t you take care of the Iwa block. There’s been trouble lately.”</p>
<p class="western">“Fucking hell. Iwa again?”</p>
<p class="western">Deidara smacked his arm. He came from that part of the city and even though he found out that he didn’t fit in there anymore he still felt some sense of pride for it. Even though there was nothing to be proud of if you asked Hidan.</p>
<p class="western">“Iwa can fuck off.” He smacked Deidara’s leg in return, only to shove them off right after and stand up. “Okay, I’ll do it but next time you’re gonna go there yourself.”</p>
<p class="western">Sasori only waved him away disinterestedly. “Take the opportunity to show Hoku how things are done, why don’t you?”</p>
<p class="western">Sometimes Hidan wanted to hit him with his own prosthetic arm. Maybe screw his head right of his shoulders. But he kept that to himself and nodded at Kakuzu. “You know how to handle guns?”</p>
<p class="western">The other nodded.</p>
<p class="western">Hidan was content enough with that. Everything else they could about in the car among only themselves. He trailed behind Kakuzu and almost had trouble keeping up, the older apparently determined to leave the place as fast as he could.</p>
<p class="western">"I’ll call you," he said to Deidara and then let the bead curtain click shut.</p>
<p class="western">Outside the rain had become stronger once again, pattering down hard onto the car windows and drenching the seats of older cars with holes in their roofs. Waiting for Hidan to catch up to him Kakuzu stood close to the warehouse’s walls where the rain didn’t hit as hard.</p>
<p class="western">"Taking your car," he said. The battery of his own would need to charge properly but at least the warehouse was still somewhat within walking distance from his home. So he only grabbed the handgun from the glove compartment and made for Kakuzu’s car. Kakuzu still kept an eye on the warehouse’s entrance, wariness in his eyes. Hidan grinned. "So, how’d you like it?"</p>
<p class="western">"There seem to be quite a few disagreements."</p>
<p class="western">"Yeah, well." Hidan shrugged and got in, waiting for Kakuzu to get into the driver’s seat and turn on the ignition, "Dei ’n Itachi, that’s a personal thing but if push comes to shove they can put most of it aside."</p>
<p class="western">"Having a cop in your midst… isn’t that risky?" He pulled onto the road and headed back for the city.</p>
<p class="western">"For him more than for us. If he snitches that’d be bad, yeah, but worse for him. You know, Zetsu is a creepy bastard but he’s useful. He can find out just about everything about a person and that’s how most of us know everything about each other too."</p>
<p class="western">"Everything?"</p>
<p class="western">"Well, almost everything. I mean, they don’t know about… the not dying thing. Some things you can actually keep from Zetsu if you’re careful enough." It would have been fun to see some distress in Kakuzu’s face at the possibility of being found out but Kakuzu didn’t grant him that wish and Hidan found that he preferred that too. He needed the man to trust him. "Anyway, you know about the whole Uchiha thing? The whole family drama they have going and the corruption allegations and all that? Part of why Itachi became police is because he thought it would be the most secure thing to do. He doesn’t like us but he hates the Hebi even more so that’s why we cooperate."</p>
<p class="western">"And all the talk about keeping innocent people safe?"</p>
<p class="western">"Strong moral compass," Hidan replied casually.</p>
<p class="western">"It’s pretentious," Kakuzu said to his surprise and glancing over him he noticed the tension of his jaw again, the bitterness in his face as they closed in on the city once more. Concrete jungle growing around them, corporate giants rising in the distant where the city centre was. Hidan couldn’t put a finger on it but what he saw was the expression of a man who followed a truth that was unshakably universal to him. "There are no innocent people in this city."</p>
<p class="western">For a while Hidan kept his eyes on the road, taking turns where he had to. Iwa was a block in the south city, hard to reach through a maze of one-way-streets but it was a route he knew well enough to let his mind drift. <em>There are no innocent people in this city</em>. Just regarding himself that was true. It was only thanks to Itachi that he hadn’t been arrested once yet. It was true regarding Deidara, Sasori and the others.</p>
<p class="western">But the city was more than just them, more than just the Akatsuki, the Hebi and the police stations, and he thought of Naruto trying to do his part, the girls of Yamanaka’s and the girl at the reception desk of the hotel.</p>
<p class="western">
  <em>There are no innocent people in this city.</em>
</p>
<p class="western">He pressed his lips together for a moment and follows the movement of the windshield wipers while they stopped at a red light.</p>
<p class="western">"It’s pretentious," Hidan said then, "Itachi’s entire family is fucking broken but he still has his little brother. That’s why he does what he does. If he tells the city, he’ll be taken from him. By the city or, well, or by us. He knows that."</p>
<p class="western">"Everyone does what they do for the sake of someone else."</p>
<p class="western">"I guess." He took the turn further into the city. Iwa was right around a corner now and he looked out for a spot to park the car.</p>
<p class="western">"So for who do you do everything?"</p>
<p class="western">Hidan glanced at him. He tried rationalising his actions like this before, tried telling himself that he did it for the orphanage first, for the other kids, but once he was eighteen and dropped out of the system he quickly realised how little he actually cared about it. And now it was "Deidara."</p>
<p class="western">"The blond?"</p>
<p class="western">"Mh-hm." He found a spot in the parking lot of a long empty supermarket, pointed at it and Kakuzu and pulled in. When the windshield wipers stopped the windows were quickly overtaken by cascades of rain water pouring down on them, making everything outside appear blurry. The patter was deafening.</p>
<p class="western">"Doing something for someone else’s sake will always be fruitless," Kakuzu said into the quiet between them.</p>
<p class="western">And for the first time in a long time Hidan found himself actually speechless, unable to come up with something to respond. So he broke away from the way they were staring and reached the handgun and pushing it into Kakuzu’s hands. "You take that. Probably won’t need it but..."</p>
<p class="western">"You don’t have a second one?" It was said in a tone that carried the musing of <em>I could just kill you again and say the Iwa folks did it.</em></p>
<p class="western">Hidan shook his head and patted his pocket where he kept his knife. "You’re not scared of a knife but others are. Plus they know me."</p>
<p class="western">He could already see a small group of Iwa people gather together where the parking lot led back onto the road, still keeping their distance but already knowing why they were here. Kakuzu checked the gun’s safety and put it away in the inside of his jacket.</p>
<p class="western">"So, uh, before we go." Hidan hesitated, wondering if he should even ask it or if he wanted to come to a conclusion himself. Wondered if Kakuzu wanted for him to come to a conclusion himself. "What about you? Killing our dear leader, becoming one of us. Who are you doing that for?"</p>
<p class="western">When their eyes met, Kakuzu’s were closed-off, stern and underneath was something hot and angry. "Myself."</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>This fic is going to be the death of me.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
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